Offspring
by robspace54
Summary: Having children is not exactly a rational thing to do. Is there ever a right time? A post-Series 8 story. (Minor spoilers!)
1. Chapter 1

Offspring

By Robspace54

 **Doc Martin is a production owned by Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fanfiction, written for enjoyment, and in no way presumes to impose on the legal rights of the property owners or any copyrights thereof.**

I could not believe what I was hearing, so I asked her, "Say again?"

Louisa plumped up her pillows and then settled her back against them. "I was just asking if you've thought about having more children. With me, that is." She batted her eyes at me and smiled.

"Who else would it be with? That is, assuming that you, erh, we, wished to."

She rolled towards me, pulled the BMJ out of my hands, and looked up at me expectantly. "Right. If we _wished_ to." She then tossed the journal towards the foot of the bed and snaked her hand under my pajama top.

I grabbed her hand through the cloth to stop its exploring. "What are you saying?"

"I'm only asking if we should think about having more children."

"More? We have _one_ already. James Henry is not one-and-a-half yet and we have that dog…"

"Whatever, Mar-tin. Another then? A baby?" Her right knee rose and trapped my legs about the shin area. "So, should we… can we? At least _think_ about it?"

I swallowed hard. Aren't we busy enough? "Louisa, you've just started this study program. All they work you'll have to do." I watched her eyes plead with me, so I said, "No harm in thinking about it I suppose."

She squirmed closer and she was now pressed against me. "No harm, you say. We're not getting any younger. I'm about past my sell-by date."

"No, you're not."

"Ah, so you think we could have another baby?"

"Uhm, yes, we could… if we wanted to…" Suddenly I felt flushed, the blood rising to my face. "We'd have to do prenatal tests. The incidence of genetic disorders rises with maternal age…"

She shook her head up and down. "I know. But I'm not forty yet."

I sighed. "Louisa… there is no discrete age which determines the absolute end of child-bearing." I saw her roll her eyes. "What?"

Her hand was starting to make circles under my shirt. "I'm an only child and so are you. Don't you wonder sometimes how things would have been for us growing up, if we had a sister or brother?"

"The thought never occurred to me."

She bit her lip then said, "Well it has to me. Would have been nice to have had a backup."

"Backup?"

"When mum and dad were, you know… fighting. All that."

I flashed back to my parents. "Seems to me that my parents could barely abide one child, let alone two."

She pulled her hand out of my shirt and put it on my neck, as she kissed my cheek. Her hand rubbed my neck softly. "Martin, I am sorry that you had to go through all that."

I shrugged. "But it's the truth." My mother told me that I was a mistake; that getting pregnant with me had destroyed her relationship with my father. And of course, since his affections had strayed, then hers did as well – one from the other. They became strangers in the same house. They ought to have divorced, I mused. But I had seen the affects when that happened with classmates – shame, sadness, and depression. "My parents…" I let the sentence die.

Louisa hugged me tighter, then rested her head on my shoulder. "Just… think about it, okay?"

I reached to my left to switch off the light, but Louisa kept me trapped in her arms. I turned off the lamp, and answered, "Yes. We can. Pros and cons." I saw her grin at me in the dimness. I got my head settled then kissed the top of her head.

"Good," she said and then she kissed me softly and tenderly. "Good night, Martin."

"Good night, Louisa." This was the woman who never gave up on me, and I never gave up on her, despite our ups and downs. She was even prepared to marry me twice, and actually did once. Thank God that she did! I rubbed her shoulder, letting my hand linger.

Suddenly she kissed me full on the mouth, so I returned her kiss and then we were stroking one another other, caressing backs, kissing lips, ears, cheeks, and necks, hands and arms roving, and then…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - The Clock

I was nice and warm, with my arms wrapped around Al, with the duvet up to our necks. Lord I should have Al have a look at the heating plant because it was cold in the bedroom. The clock showed it was 6:30. Too early to be awake. Suddenly I had to sit bolt upright, and started to hiccup.

"Mor? You okay?"

I needed to get up and quick! I tossed the covers off, bolted out of bed and ran to the loo down the hall. I slammed the door behind me and fell to my knees in front of the toilet. God, I felt sick. Then I started to throw up.

In a little while I heard Al outside the roor. "Uhm, you okay in there?" he asked. The door creaked open and he looked in.

"I feel awful." I must look awful too, crouching on the floor, with my hair hanging down over most of my face.

He got down on the floor next to me. "Flu?"

I wiped my mouth on loo paper. "Been going around."

"Maybe something you ate? You do look awful, Mor."

"I feel terrible. Bad stomach..." I said, "Water."

He filled the tooth glass from the tap and gave it to me. I sipped from it then spat into the toilet bowl. "Ugh. God, I hate that taste." I drank half the glass down. "Better. Maybe those prawns we had last night?" Before I could say anything more I had to have another go, heaving my guts up into the loo.

When I got a break, Al started to rub my back. "Stop. That doesn't help."

His arm fell away. "Sorry. What's wrong? Call the Doc?"

An little alarm bell started to ring in my mind. "Al, go get the calender. The one in our room." I was mental reviewing the last few weeks. When did I last have it? Oh no. Could it be?

Al dragged himself back to the loo, after I threw up again. That last time I was tied up in knots, my guts in turmoil.

"Calender, Mor." He was pale. "Maybe..." he stuttered. "Uhm, look..."

With shaking hands, I fliped over the pages, seeking information. I compared today's date to the tick marks I had made over the last two months since Al and I moved in together. Every 29 days, and I was regular; I was as regular as a... "Al... uhm..." Regular as a clock; always had been.

He took my hand. "What you think it is?"

The last little tick mark was six weeks ago. Maybe it was... or, I forgot to mark it.

Al peered at me. "Mor, what's wrong?"

I put my hand on my right breast and rubbed it. It was sore and had been for at least a few days, if not two weeks. And my nipples were really sensitive. And I was vomiting - in the morning. Oh my God.

My clock had stopped. I looked at him and tried to smile. With shaking voice, I told him, "Al, I'm pregnant."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Diagnosis

I looked at my watch, and it was 8:45. "Where is that girl?" I was in my reception room, an empty reception room, which was vacant of patients (because surgery opened at 9) _and_ my receptionist.

"What's that?" Louisa asked.

"Morwenna. Not like her to be late."

"Now, don't you bite her head off, when she gets here."

"Louisa, she has a job and I need her… and I do not _bite_ …"

Louisa crossed the room to stand near me. "You can and you do. Don't be a grouch."

Just then the front door flew open and Al Large barged in practically carrying Morwenna in his arms. "Doc! Got a bit of a _situation_ here."

"Oh my God," Louisa said. "Morwenna?""

As I went to help Al, I assessed the girl. Morwenna's complexion was pasty, skin looked clammy, her eyes looked sunken, and she was barely on her feet. "Bring her through!" I took one of her arms and with Al on the other we got her into my examining room. I detected an odor of sweat and vomit about her. She was not quite a dead weight, but close. "On the exam table."

Al took her upper body as I swung her legs up. "Now, what's all this about?" I took her pulse which was rapid, then I picked up my stethoscope and made ready to listen to her heart. Cardiovascular? Respiratory? "What did this start?"

"This morning," Morwenna moaned. "Basin!"

Louisa had stayed with us, so she grabbed a pan and held it before the girl's mouth, who promptly leaned forward and spewed bile-filled fluid into it.

"Any idea what caused this?" I asked. "Something you ate, or drank, perhaps? Any sensation of general malaise, along with the nausea?" There has been a strain of flu spreading. I touched her forehead which was clammy and cool, but not hot.

Morwenna stared at Al and he intently looked back. "Uh, sorta," Al muttered.

After a few seconds, Morwenna broke the gaze, turned her head and softly said, "I'm… pretty sure…"

Al cleared his throat. "That is, we think…"

Morwenna sighed. "Doc, I'm pregnant."

Louisa covered her mouth with her hand, but I could tell she was grinning.

I stared at her and Al. "How did this happen?"

Louisa coughed. "Mar-tin, you _know_ how these things happen."

I looked from Morwenna to Al, who was rubbing the girl's shoulder. "Ahem, right. How long has the vomiting been ongoing?"

Morwenna gagged.

"Just this morning, Doc," Al said. "And she can't stop."

I took her pulse which was still rapid, then I examined her pupils. "Have you had any food this morning?"

Morwenna shook her head. " _Don't_ say _that_ word."

I sensed a disapproving reaction from Louisa, so I softened my actions. "Are you sure? Pregnancy."

"I'm late, and I'm never late," Morwenna told me. "Along with nausea, soreness… my uh, baps. They're sore."

I took her blood pressure which was a little depressed, which was not unusual, given the vaso-vagal response.

"All signs of a developing pregnancy," Morwenna added, then she gave Al a little smile. "Been reading up on my lunch break."

Louisa cleared her throat. "Congratulations then. Martin, need me around?"

"No." Louisa walked out as I held up a home pregnancy test kit. "Have you seen one of these? The Chemist has them."

She shook her head. "Mrs. Tishell isn't open yet, and even if she had been…" Her eyes appealed to me with unhappiness, or perhaps wariness. "I… don't want the news to get out just yet."

Al rubbed his neck. "This news'll travel like a bushfire."

"If you are able, I want you to go into the loo. Then fill this sample bottle, with, uhm, urine. Cap it and return it to me. And wash your hands, before and after. Then we'll perform a pregnancy test."

Al looked rather dazed, so I addressed him. "Are you able to get her to the toilet?"

"Uh, right," he said. "Come on Morwenner. Off we go."

With his help, she slid off the table, as I held the door for them.

Louisa was standing just outside. "Oh, sorry," she said as she moved out of their way. I saw she was holding a packet of crackers.

"What are those for?" I asked her.

"For Morwenna. Dry crackers for morning sickness."

We watched as Al stood outside the loo, nervously wringing his hands together.

"Brings back memories," Louisa muttered.

Except that Louisa had been in London and I was in Portwenn. "Right."

"You think she _is_ pregnant?" she whispered.

Or she has a tumour, I thought. "We'll see."

"The signs are right. All the symptoms, and they are living together." Louisa smiled. "Poor kids."

"They are hardly children. I hope they know what they are doing."

"Oh," She touched my arm, "does anyone know what they are doing when they are having babies?" She glanced over her shoulder at Al. "Can you be nice to them? They're not just some random people off the street."

I grunted assent. Al and Morwenna entered surgery glumly. I started the test and while we waited for the reaction, I did a quick general workup. Fortunately Morwenna was the sort of person who took care of herself, unlike so many.

The test was positive.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – A Word

Martin was quiet during dinner that evening, not that he said very much, usually. James was making more than enough noise for both of us while he ate his chicken and mash The peas he passed on. After dinner, we took James out for a walk, and after returning to the house, I gave him his bath. Martin then took over the night time routine of jammies, a glass of milk, and bedtime stories.

I put down the textbook I was trying to make sense of when I heard Martin walking down the stairs. This particular book was filled with plenty of complicated psychological counseling terms, and it was rather heavy going. Martin came down after settling James into bed. "He go down alright?" I asked.

"The usual. Two books. He was pointing to each number in the counting book."

"Mell says they are working on numbers as well as letters in his preschool."

"I noticed. James has _one_ , _two_ , and _fwee_ down pat," Martin added. "He's progressing." He looked up at me thoughtfully. "Normally."

I patted the sofa cushion next to me so he sat down there. I swung my legs across his lap and he started to massage my left foot. "Thanks."

He inspected my foot. "Are these marks usual?"

"New shoes."

"Hm. Support as well as comfort…"

I stared at him for a few seconds and he got the message because his 'shoe lecture' was cut short.

He started to pick up his journal, so I said, "Martin, a word? That alright?"

He pushed his journal away and faced me. "Go on."

"Right. When I… so, when James and I were down… in Spain…" I stopped, finding the air hard to get for some reason

"What is it?"

I touched his hand. "I… just want to say… well, you never asked; about what I did down there."

"You needed space."

I swept my hair back. "Yes, I did." I laced my fingers with his. "But, I don't believe that most of the time being away did me much good."

"Oh."

I forced a smile. "As you can imagine mum wasn't much help."

"Right," he mumbled, as if to say 'what did you expect?'

"But… there was a moment; and just at the right time. It sorta snuck up on me." I bit my lip and looked away, for it was difficult to tell him this.

"Louisa, you don't have to…"

"No, Martin, I must. After you phoned, and I got your message, and then when I tried to call you back… voicemail; awkward." Martin had been stuck on a beach, I'd heard, and then he was with Dr. Timoney. Voicemail was less than acceptable; like sending telegrams used to be, I guess.

He winced. "Yes."

"I had to decide what to do. When to come back, yes? Start of term was coming up, but I…" I wiped my eyes which had gone wet. "I took James up to the mountains, to get away from mum. There was this road that went up to the top of a beautiful hill, and I had a taxi drive us up there, with a hamper, and I promised the driver 10 Euros extra if he came back for us in three hours."

"I see," he said, but his expression showed confusion about what I was saying.

"So, we had a little picnic, but your son was far more interested in poking at ants than eating. But, anyway I got some food into him, and then he had a little nap. I guess I must have dozed off as well, for I had this dream. A dream about you and me."

"I see."

"We were in bed together; not a care in the world. In the dream. And it was lovely." Then I smiled for him. "So, anyway when I woke up, I was looking down on a river valley. It was beautiful, with the water down below and the way the light reflected from it, the scrubby olive trees on the hillsides, and there was a warm breeze… oh, it was wonderful. But."

"But?"

I put my arm across his shoulders. "It was so pretty; so nice, but you weren't there with me to see it. And I knew that wasn't good enough, so I came back to Cornwall."

"I see."

"And now here we are."

He half-turned, holding my legs awkwardly. "Yes, and I am… so glad."

"Me too," I murmured.

He looked at me watchfully. "What's this about?"

"Oh, I was thinking about Al, Morwenna, and us."

He just looked at me, but his mouth twitched. "Go on."

"Here they are, the two of them, a couple, with a baby on the way, and doesn't that remind you of us?"

"But, they're both here – in the village. Oh, Morwenna thanked you for the crackers. Said they helped a lot. I told her to eat small meals, and more often, as a way to defeat pregnancy morning sickness."

"I practically lived on crackers and juice for a few weeks myself. But at least, Al and Morwenna are together; uhm, same house even. But just look at them. Morwenna's parents are off doing good works…"

He shook his head. "Damn good thing they came to Portwenn. Appalling medical treatment where they were."

"I know. And I am so happy that you were able to get her mum's medical diagnosis made proper. And then there's Al. He's struggled."

"With Bert for a parent how could he not?"

"Oh, Martin just listen and quit judging! Here's my point. She's never been anywhere or done anything. She's smart, is Morwenna, but has lacked opportunities. Same for Al."

"He's running that pub."

"Yes, and making money at it I hear, and he's smart as well."

"What are you saying?"

I smiled at him. "I want to help them out."

"Why?"

I hung my head. "They're going to have a baby now, and that's a huge amount of responsibility and cost. Look… when I was little… and when my dad, oh…" I shrugged automatically, "people helped out. You know."

"You're saying that you wish to do… just what exactly?"

"You need to give Morwenna a pay rise, and straight away."

"She's already had a five percent pay rise!"

"Well give her another. I've seen her in action. She's been riding herd on the time-wasters in your surgery. Keeps things tidy and organized. Helps to keep you on schedule during busy days. Plus, she's far more effective in the job than anyone else has been."

He looked thoughtful. "She has been triaging them, yes. That has been useful."

"See? I'm right, aren't I?"

He sighed. "I'll think about it." He cracked his neck slightly. "But what has that got to do with your trip to Spain?"

I bit my lip. He didn't get it. Oh well. "Because. Nobody lives in a vacuum. This whole village depends on each of us to help each other. So, I think you ought to invite Al up to the house to play chess now and again. Ruth says he's very good, plus he looks up to you Martin. And I'll be taking Morwenna shopping for maternity clothes and baby things when the time is right."

"Chess with Al?" He shook his head. "And now you want to mother her?"

"Martin, not quite." I swung my legs off his lap and scooted closer to him so I could kiss his cheek. "But perhaps I can be a sort of sister to her. She's got no family, really."

"So…" his voiced stopped. "Wait a minute. You see yourself in her."

"Little bit. Maybe." There was a lot of me in Morwenna. A girl alone, I had been. "Time to pay it back; our turn you see." I also imagined that Morwenna might be frightened. I knew that I had been.

He bobbed his head. "Having a baby isn't easy."

While I had been thinking about babies, I hoped that Martin was as well. "That we do know," I sighed. "But they do come along, don't they?"

He folded his hands. "I'm glad that you came home."

I patted his arm. "Being down in Spain… well, I needed you, you see. I finally got it." I gave him a tighter hug and kissed his neck. Then I yawned and stretched and I hoped that he'd noticed the way I pressed against him, my chest against his. "Time for bed?" I whispered.

He checked his watch but didn't say anything. After a few seconds he stared at my face, squeezed my hand, and kissed me full on the mouth. "Right," he agreed after we broke apart.

Then taking my hand he drew me upstairs. I didn't mind at all what we did next.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – The Upshot

I guess I spent most of the day in a daze. Poor Morwenner. She was still pretty sick when I left her at the Doc's but she texted me later telling me she was feeling a lot better. Louisa's cracker treatment worked a treat. She ought to know having had a baby.

But the shock of knowing that it was real? It took my breath away, while Morwenna sat in front of the Doc, all open-mouthed at the news.

The Doc looked at us intently. "Now, you'll be starting on a regime of prenatal vitamins, I have pamphlets to give you about prenatal nutrition, exercise, as well as self-care, as well as long list of activities, such as drinking or drugging to avoid."

Morwenna nodded. "Okay." She turned her head and glanced at me. "Right, Al?"

"Uhm, yeah." I took her hand which grabbed mine desperately. "Mor', you alright?"

"A bit of a shock is all."

The Doc cleared his throat. "From your dates I think you are six weeks pregnant, but that's only an estimate. Ultrasound, that's where I beam ultrasound…"

"" I get it," Mor' said.

"Yes, then we can get an actual measurement of the foetal size."

"So, when's the baby due, Doc?" I asked.

Martin took a calendar off the wall and flipped through it. "Six weeks… to here. That day." He pointed to a day in mid-July; next Summer. "Roughly. Of course, this is based on a normal gestation of 38 to 40 weeks, including the time from your last menses." He looked at me. "Do _you_ understand?"

I nodded.

Morwenna gave me a little smile. "Hello, dad."

"Yeah, sure. Right." I sighed. "Wow. Are you okay?"

Mor' smiled for me, but then she rushed over to the sink and heaved her guts up.

The Doc wrinkled his nose. "Typically, morning-sickness, which can also happen in the evening, subsides in a few weeks." He looked over at Morwenna. "Do you feel fit to work today?"

She wiped her mouth on a towel, binned that, then washed her hands thourghly, and binned that towel after drying them. "Sure. We'll need the money."

"God, what do we know about having a baby?" I muttered, but Dad was hanging about and heard me.

"What's that boy?"

"Oh nothin'."

Dad had come into the pub for a bite of lunch, but I think he really wanted to get away from Caitlin for a while. I don't think she worked him very hard up at the market, but from what he's said she'd like to be lot more than just his boss. Oh well, you make your bed you have to lie in it.

Speaking of that, Morwenna asked me not to tell anybody, so I bit my tongue. Just our little secret until we got used to the idea, and that things were cooking along okay with the baby. No Al, it's not a dish, it's a child – yours and Morwenna's – I reminded myself. The thought of the awesome, and unplanned, event to come put a fright into me. I wonder how she was. She'd said she was fine, but who really knew?

Dad came over to where I was polishing the bar top. "So, son, tell me."

"Tell you what?"

He looked around slyly, but the room was empty but for us. "You and your girl, you been thinking about moving on to the next step?"

"Uh, what would that be, Dad?"

"Oh, I don't know… nuptials perhaps?" he winked. "Birds and bees, boy. Men and women, you know?"

"We… we haven't really… uhm… talked about a _wedding_." But it was an idea – a good idea.

"Just saying boy, Morwenna's a looker, and a nice girl, and don't you go bollixing things up with her like you did with Pauline and Elaine!" His fist hit the bar. "You gotta strike while the iron's hot, if you know what I mean," he laughed.

Pauline and Elaine, oh my. Elaine would never give me the time of day – her and her Greg – and Pauline went away for nurses training and just faded off into the distance. "Ancient history, Dad."

"And that's another thing, boy, you're not getting any older, and neither is she." He winked. "Tick, tock. That's a clock that ain't gonna run forever. Am I right?"

"Right." I bit my tongue to not tell him that clock had stopped, like say for the next 7 ½ months, or so.

"Why do you look so glum, chum?" Dad asked. "S, as I was sayin'…"

I held up my hand. "I get it Dad. Now if you don't mind? Finish your ham sandwich and shift it? I got things to do."

He shook his head sadly. "Only free advice, boy." He finished his meal in a few bites. "Best be getting back up to the..." he threw his thumb over his shoulder. "The old ball and chain."

"Caitlin treat you that badly?"

His face went white. "No, no, but she can get a little… well, how to say it? _Close_ if you know what I mean." He sighed. "And getting' closer and closer all the time."

Dad left the pub and I thought about what he'd said. Dad was right, for once in his life.

Time was a waistin' and the upshot was that I'd better ask Morwenna to marry me; make an honest woman of her. For people will talk. But before that happened, I'd start out with flowers.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Surprises

The whole day my head was in a whirl. Me? A mum? Oh my gawd. Not planned, not at all. I thought back a few weeks. It must have been... when, exactly? It was, oh it was another pub night, when the til cleared £900. Al was happy, and me for him.

I was in a state of shock for several hours, and after my tummy settled, sround about two that afternoon I watched Sarah Deptford usher her two kids in for a checkup. The older kid, Harry, was six, and pretty cute, while the baby, Emma was about a year-and-a-half. Emma was at the grabby stage, picking up everything in sight, while her brother carried a little pack on his back, which he opened to show me a stack of books from the library.

"Oh lor, Harry, don't you bother Morwenna. Sorry luv," she said to me. "Since he started readin' he can't stop!" She brushed her graying hair back from her pretty, but tired face.

"No, that's fine." I smiled at her son. "I like to read too. What's your favorite kind of book?"

"Everything. Pirates, trains, cars," the boy said to me.

"My, that's quite advanced, ain't it?"

"That's just what his teachers say," his mother replied. "I don't know where he gets it. I'm not much for readin'."

The Doc came out and handed me notes for filing. He looked hard at me. "How are you... uhm..." he asked quietly.

"Somthin' wrong with you, Morwenna?," Mrs. Deptford asked. "Emmas's got the sniffles," she addressed the Doc.

He looked at me in alarm. "Morwenna is just fine, Mrs. Zagar," he intoned.

"Deptford," she said back to him. "I can't imagine having a sick receptionist would be good at all," she cleared her throat. "You do look a might peaked to me, dearie."

The Doc replied, "No, and now, uhm, Morwenna is..."

"Fine. Right as rain," I told her. "Here Doc, are Mrs. Deptford's childrens' notes."

Doc peered at me like I had two heads. "Yes, right. And stop her!" he nearly yelled as Emma started to tear a magazine to bits.

The mum took her daughter in hand and pulled the pages from her. "Sorry, Doc. Emma gets into things."

Shaking his head the Doc pointed to his examing room. "Go through then. Take both children." He clapped his hands. "Smartly now!"

The family was herded inside and the green door closed.

"My, them kids run her ragged, I imagine." That came from Mr. Stafford, one of the too-frequent office attendees. His complaint was always constipitation (and loneliness). "They get on my nerves."

Mrs. Jackson diasagreed. She was an aged widow with bad knees, diabetes, and many opinions. "Nay. Not at all. Why those little darlins? Sarah and her Frank tried for years, and years! Got married in their teens, and phfttt. Nothin'. Every Wednesday and Friday night, she told me, they worked on it. Finally, when Sarah was 43, she had Harry. And then Emma a bit back. Sarah told me she nearly prayed her knees out, and almost gave up tryin'. But oh my them kids is SO loved. Makes me wish I had more." She turned her lined face to me. "You mark my words, Morwenna Newcross. Don't you wait for the stork too long!"

My hand went to my waistline. "Okay, as you say. How many kids did you and mister have?"

"Six," she said proudly, and then she winked at me.

Did she know I was going to have Al's baby? How could she? Nobody knew. Just me, Al, the Doc and Louisa. Unless Al told his dad, and then the whole village would know!

I looked back at Mrs. Stafford in what I hoped was with an innocent look. She winked twice more, and then I remembered she had a facial twitch. "Six, oh my."

"Six. Oh yes. And I wear each and every stretch mark with pride," she cackled.

"Right." Stretch marks. Oh goodie.

"And nine grandkids," she added. "Best thing I ever did. Have kids."

Something to look forward to.

After surgery closed, Louisa intercepted me and offered to help me shop. "What for?"

"You know. Clothes, for you and the baby. And then all the... other things."

"Oh. Well thanks then."

"Martin... and I... decided to help."

"Oh Al and I, we'll be fine."

Louisa put her arm around me. "Right. Listen, any questions you have, you just call."

"And the Doc will answer them."

"Yes, right. But I mean, uhm, _lady_ questions. I am a mother, and there are things that Martin can't answer. Despite all his _medical_ knowledge." She shrugged. "May be a few things I can help you with."

"Oh." Right then was the beginning of a different relationship with her. "Cheers then."

I got to the house and found the table was set, with candles, and a bouquet of roses. "Al?"

He clattered down the stairs, and lo and behold, he was dressed in sportcoat and tie, and had even shaved. "Oh, hey, I mean hello." He straightened his tie, crossed the room, took my hand and dropped to one knee. "I know this might be sudden, but Morwenna Newcross, will you marry me? Be the mother of my... our child?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - Questions

"You're asking me to marry you?" Morwenna asked, her voice shaking.

"I am." From the look on her face she looked scared. But you know, I was as well. Shakin' in my boots.

"And not just askin' because I'm gonna have a baby?"

"Mor' of course not, but I sorta figured we oughta get hitched up anyway, and not just because of the baby. I care for you and I love you." I thought about my mum and dad; my mum dying when I was a baby. "And maybe there is no right time. Just... oh heck."

She shook her head. "If I didn't think you loved me I'd not have made love to you, Al Large."

I took her hand. "Oh. But maybe you don't love me..." came out in a mumble.

She tousled my hair, saying, "Silly boy. Of course I love you."

"So that's a yes? I mean you _will_ marry me?"

She got down on her knees and wrapped her arms around me. "Al Large, I _will_ marry you." Then she kissed me full on the lips, so I kissed her back. The word kiss maybe doesn't describe it. The joy I felt was only interrupted by the pain my kneecap as it ground into a crack in the slate floor.

"Something wrong?"

I shifted my weight. "No... just I'm breakin' my knee kneelin' down like this."

She laughed. "Then you'd better get up."

We stood up, still holding one another. "I... made us dinner."

She kissed me again, sucking on my lower lip. "Dinner," she whispered.

"Uhm, yeah. Fish, veg, and boiled taters."

Next she nibbled on my ear. "Oh," she said slowly.

"Doc says you gotta eat right."

"So now you're gonna worry about me? What I eat? All that?"

I tried to step away but she held me tight. "I, uhm, only thought... stands to figure... the baby."

Morwenna kissed me again, then murmurred in my ear, "Our baby."

"Right." She sniffled a little so I pushed her away to see her face. "You cryin'?"

Tears were running down her face.

"Morwenner? What's wrong?"

She wiped her eyes. "I wish grand-dad was still here."

"He was a good man."

"I know. Mum and dad, always... you know; their charity work. But grand-dad? He raised me since I was little. Never a word of complaint." She sighed. "He liked you, you know."

"Ah. Didn't know that."

"Grand-dad'd point you out. 'Lookie there, Morwenna,' he'd say. 'There's a handsome young fella. I think he might have a head on his shoulders too.'"

I rubbed my neck. "Well, I try."

She nodded. "And you don't give up." Unlike my dad, she didn't say, and I thanked her silently for not sayin' that.

I touched her face. "Maybe if the baby is a boy we could name him William."

"Or Mary if it's a girl, your mum's name."

I felt a jolt at that. What was my mum like? Gosh how things would have been different if she'd lived. Maybe my dad would have been a lot happier; mkre confident at least. But he never remarried, spent all those years raisin' me.

Morwenna wiped her cheeks with both hands and then laughed. "So, here we are."

"Yeah."

She looked at the kitchen. "I don't smell anything cooking."

"I... I hadn't started dinner just yet."

"In case I said no?"

"I guess."

She kissed me. "Were you that unsure of me? Afraid I'd say no?"

"Uhm... sorta."

She laughed. "Come on then," she said and took a step away from the kitchen.

"Where are you headin'?"

She grinned mischieviously. "You hungry? For fish, veg, and potatoes?" She held out her hand for mine. "I'm not."

I took her hand and she grabbed it eagerly. "Whats goin' on?"

"We can eat later. Come on, Al Large. Let's go celebrate. Upstairs." She had this brilliant smile, and just for me.

"Right."

So we went up to bed. I nervously got into bed with her, not sure what to do.

"Is something the matter?" she asked as she rubbed my back.

"I... I dont wanta hurt you... the baby."

She smiled. "You won't hurt anything, Al. Now give us a kiss."

I learned something in the next few hours. You can't make a pregnant woman pregnant, but we tried to anyway... several times!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Siblings

Louisa was saying something to me and I'd lost the plot. "Hm?" I asked her. It was late in rhe evening, dinner was hours gone, and James had been sound asleep for 30 minutes.

She gave me a sly look. "You do realize that Morwenna's baby won't be that much younger than James. They can play together."

"James will be 27 months old when her child is born. Not quite the same age, is it?"

Louisa hung her head. "Give them three years and they'll be running around the house together chasing Buddy."

"I doubt that the dog will enjoy that."

"Thats not what I mean."

"Well what do you mean?"

"They can be friends, is what I'm saying. It's not like..." she stopped and bit her lip.

I should have stopped there, but I did not. "Not like what?"

She looked at the floor. "Nothing."

"Then what are you saying?"

She crossed her arms. "Okay then, Mar-tin." She glared at me.. "It's not like James has that many friends... or a brother or sister, obviously."

"But he goes to play school. He plays with other children there."

She shook her head.

"No?" Now I was getting confused. "What..."

Louisa turned away as if to leave the room, but then she shook her head, turned to me and said, "Martin, you are an only child. I am an only child. Do you have an idea, an actual inkling, of what having a sibling is like? Your own blood?"

I opened my mouth to reply sharply but said nothing.

"Like when Aunt Joan died? Or your dad? Just imagine that when your mum came to visit you had someone else to rely on," she said slowly. "I'm not saying that... well, that you weren't capable of... dealing with those things... because you were, and are, but..."

I looked at her face very closely and saw how her eyes were glistening.

She went on, "Or when my dad and mum... fought all the time," her head hung down and she shifted her feet on the slate, "you know. And so I..."

I touched her chin and lifted her face. "We can't change the past, Louisa."

"Yes, I know," she answered.

I cocked my head. "I have no brother or sister, and neither do you, but I have you and James," I told her but then I saw one tear trickle down her cheek. "However, ahem, I can appreciate that a family - a functional one could be... uhm... useful. Especially in such cases as you suggest." I wiped a tear from her face.

She took my hand and kissed it. "So, where does that leave us?"

I looked at her beautiful face, her firm lips, and long lashes, her still attractive curves, the long pony tail draped gracefully over one shoulder, long and graceful limbs, and I knew that I from the first time I saw her, I'd fallen in love with her. Was it chemical, scent based, body language, or the sound of her voice? Her womanly curves attracting me as someone to mate with? Clearly she was beautiful to my eyes to activate the centers of my brain which registered sexual interest and attraction. Plus there are all the other things.

The discussions, arguments, togetherness, being apart, happiness, sadness, being lost in a wood, making love for the first time, having a child, getting married.

"What are you thinking of?" she asked.

God, I'd be lost without her. But she wants another baby. From the moment she knew my medical secretary was expecting it was obvious to me that it only reinforced Louisa's, shall we say, maternal interests? Our recent sequences of lovemaking predated Morwenna's discovery, so it was only natural, I suppose, that the question would confront the both of us. Should we have another child?

I suppose that she was right. If I had a sibling then things might have been very different for me. Could James Henry benefit from a sister or brother?

I interlaced my fingers with hers and she smiled. I loved Louisa so how could I not try to please her?


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 - Changes

So far our secret (two actually) remained safe, I think, but there were those who gave me funny looks. Al swore he'd not said anything to anybody, but we lived in a small village, so clearly that we lived in the same house set tongues wagging, as if we were the only couple to ever live together without marriage. The morning sickness got less frequent and less hard to bear, but my energy levels had dropped. I felt like a lorry had run me over most days.

Despite me dragging myself through a work day, the Doc was less harsh, almost gentle with me at times. He even suggested that I cut my hours. It was right before patients started arriving so it was just the two of us in the house. James was off in play school and Louisa had driven to Bodmin for a class when the Doc surprised me with his announcement.

"But, you just raised my pay!" I replied. Had he gone dolally? "Not that I'm complaining mind you. The money will come in handy down the road."

"I am merely saying that if you are getting rundown, then you need more rest. Why must all you pregnant women be so hard headed about this?"

All you pregnant women? "Just how many expectant mums are we talkin' about Doc?"

His face went pale.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" I asked in a teasing tone. "Is Louisa..."

"No! I was only stating that early in pregancy the developing foetus will make many phsiological demands on your system. The growth of the uterus, placenta, baby, fat stores, blood volume and breast tissue wiil all..."

"Yep. I have noticed." And how my baps were much larger even only eight weeks along. Al seemed to enjoy their size and I did too. I'd need to take Louisa up on her offer of shopping help, and soon. Involuntarily I reached up and adjusted a too tight bra strap.

The Doc blanched and turned his face. "Just cut back to 35 hours each week until you feel better. And do not worry about the time difference. The practice will continue to pay you at the normal, uhm, rate of pay; at the higher amount."

I was nearly bowled over in surprise. He was actually being nice; no _actively_ being nice. A side of the Doc I'd never seen. "Cheers then." But I did wonder about Louisa. Was _she_ pregnant? Oh my the thought of them... no, girl, stop! It was like thinking of your parents having sex. Thinking of that I'd have to contact mum and dad pretty soon.

Mystified by the Doc's change in manner, I had noticed Al too was changing. He was quieter, but more thoughtful when he did speak, plus very helpful, as well as more energetic in bed. Men were strange. But it was Al who insisted that we had to set a date.

Curate Edwards was very happy to see us when we entered her church. "And how are you two?" she asked as we followed her into her cluttered office. "Please take these seats, here, in front of my desk." She sat and faced us.

Al ducked his head. "Uhm, fine."

We sat and I now I felt a touch of fear. This is a big step.

"Yes, good, good," she answered him. "And you Miss Newcross? I must say I have been disappointed not to have seen you since, well since your friends Janet and Joe were here. That was a..." she sighed, "well, not quite the best time had by all, shall we say?" She folded her hands together and smiled. "Now, what can I do for you?"

I glanced at Al and he looked scared stiff. "I'm fine thank you," I replied to the Curate. "And we want to get married."

Miss Edwards smiled. "Ah. Why's that, I mean, are you serious about this? Can't just marry anyone who wanders in off the street, right? Can't have any more," she waved a hand in the air, "disasters in front of the altar can I? What would people say? 'Poor Rosie Edwards can barely fill the pews, let alone get couples properly hitched. Now, the Vicar? Capital all around, he was, but not that _new_ _woman_.'" She sighed. "You cannot imagine the trouble that caused with my superiors."

Joe and Janice did get to the altar, but no further. "Right, sure," I said, "but we're serious, about our marriage. A simple one."

Al seemed to wake up. "And the way I figure, if you can, uhm, carry off a _first-class_ wedding for the two of us," he winked, "good for you - and good for us."

The Curate nodded. "Quid pro quo; but it is part of my job, and _calling_." She picked up a calendar book and flipped through it and I could see the dates were mostly blank. "I see plenty of times available. When would you like?"

I took a deep breath. "As soon as possible."

She looked from me to Al then leaned back in her chair. "And why's that? My church is not exactly a Gas-N-Go on the motorway," she chuckled. "Can't just cruise in, do the deed, and then drive away! And you have thought about this? Serious stuff is marriage. None of this fly halfway 'round the world for a tropical wedding and find out the groom has been shagging every bird on the beach." She shook her head. "Sorry... now back to you two. Why?"

"Why?" Al said.

The Curate stared at us. "Why now?"

I reached over and took Al's hand. "We love one another."

The Curate nodded. "At least that's a start. That all?"

"No," Al grunted, "you see..."

We'd talked about this. How much do we say? About the baby?

"I love this girl to the ends of the Earth and back. She's the one I been looking for," he added, "and... well..." Al's voice petered out.

The Curate said, "Is there more? Be truthful with me."

"We're pregnant!" I nearly shreaked. "And I love Al Large and that's why I'm pregnant, I mean because I love him I got preggers, not that I was planning on it, but it happened and now here we are so we need you to marry us so that when the baby comes..." came out in a rush.

The Curate bowed her head and I thought for a moment she was fainting. "Right," she answered after a few seconds. "You are not the only couple to ever have this happen. But I want to say thank you, for coming to me so I can help."

Al said, "Oh."

Curate Edwards smiled. "You must go to the registry office and file. The office is in Truro, then, we set a date, quick as needed. Meanwhile we make arrangements for the church. I will do all I can to make this..." she stopped to wipe her eyes. "Sorry - hay fever. As painless and quick as possible." She looked at her calender. ""And as happy. Five weeks from Saturday then. That help?"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 – Parents

I looked across the table and asked Morwenna, "Morwenna, when are we gonna tell my Dad?" We were polishing off our Saturday lunch, so now was a good time to talk. She'd put in morning hours at the Doc's and I'd been cleaning up the pub.

"Soon, I suppose," she answered.

"And your folks as well."

"Yeah," she sighed. "I been thinkin' about that, uh, them."

"The wedding, at least."

"And not about the uhm…"

I watched her hand drop to her waistline, which still existed; at least for a while. "It's gonna be obvious ain't it? You'll be getting…"

She tossed her napkin across the table at me. "Al Large! Were you were going to say _fat_?"

I help up my hands. "No, I wasn't. But, _bigger_ was the word I was gonna use. And you're not showin' yet."

She hung her head. "I know. I sort of wish I was, I mean, throwin' up and all that seems, like a waste of effort, unless… oh, my belly starts growin'."

I reached across the table and took her hand. "What say we tell Dad?" I took out my mobile.

"No Al. In person. We have to do this properly."

"Okay, sure."

Dad was sitting outside the co-op market in the sun when we found him. Morwenna took my hand as we stopped in front of him.

"Why, hello my lovers," he said to us. "You are a sight for sore eyes. I been hauling boxes out to the tip this morning so right now I'd much rather be lookin' at you two lovelies then a pile of trash." His eyes fell. "Not that I'm sayin' that you're not that much better than trash. I mean…"

"Dad, it's okay," I told him. I looked around and no one was near. "We, Mor' and I want to uhm, tell… well, tell you the good news."

"Oh?" he said. "And what might that be?"

Morwenna sat next to him and took his hand. "Bert, you know that Al and me been… _together_ for some time now."

Dad smiled. "And it makes my heart glad to see you two." He looked from me to her and back again. "What's goin' on?"

I took a deep breath. "Dad, Morwenna and me… we're getting married."

Dad's face broke into a smile. "Ah, now that is GOOD news." He looked up at the sky. "Hallelujah! Fantastic! You set a date?" he reached out to hug Morwenna and we winked at me.

Morwenna was biting her lips. "Yeah, in a few weeks."

"Why the rush? Oh I know you too want to start as soon as you can. Good! Good idea! In this life you never can tell what and when things can happen. But in all good time when the little –'uns come."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "About that… we, we… well you see… it's like this…" I said in a stutter.

Morwenna took over. "Bert?" she looked around to make sure no one was close but she spoke quietly. "Now don't get excited. Right? It's like this… we're gonna have a baby."

"Well of course you are!" Dad laughed. "All in good time. Oh you two lovebirds are gonna make a lovely couple. Have you thought about caterin' the event? I could whip up a cake. That is Al, if you'll let me into the pub kitchen. I could make some jam tarts, and finger samwiches…"

I interrupted him. "No Dad! Soon."

"What soon?" he asked.

"No, we're gonna have a BABY in about seven months," I told him thru gritted teeth.

He recoiled. "You mean? That Morwenna is?" he said and then inspected Morwenna closely. "Ah."

She smiled at him. "Yes Bert. Ah. Bit of a _surprise_ , I know, but we were going to get married anyway, right Al?"

"Right," I coughed.

Dad's eyes got misty. "And to think that your mum, Mary, didn't get to see you grow up, and then get married, and be a dad?" He started to blubber.

Morwenna rubbed his back. "Bert, don't cry, it's going to fine. Really."

Dad pulled out a kerchief, blew his nose loudly, and then wiped his eyes. 'Oh I know, I'm just so happy for you two." He looked up at me. "You'll be a great father my boy, and you?" He hugged Morwenna tightly and kissed her forehead. "You'll be a wonderful mum!"

He stood up, pulled Morwenna to her feet and hugged us both. "Proper job, boy," he whispered to me. "Proper job."

000

"Well that went well," I said to Al when we got back to the house. I readjusted my dress which Bert had mussed with all his hugging.

Al nodded. "Yeah. One down."

I sighed, took out my mobile and turned it on. "Now for my parents."

Al checked his watch. "Two hours ahead aren't they?"

"Yeah," I sighed but pressed the button to call mum. The phone rang and rang and then it was picked up.

"Hullo?" said my Dad's voice.

"Hi Dad! It's Morwenna."

"Well, hullo sweetheart. You'll want to talk to your mum. She's in the other room."

"I… I'd like to talk to both of you and Al Large is here with me. I'm going to speaker." I swiped the speaker icon so Al and I could share the phone.

"Right," Dad said. "Al, sure. I'll just get mum."

I heard him put the phone down.

"Now," I whispered to Al, "just be cool, right?"

"Right. Cool," Al said. "Like ice."

"Why hello Morwenna!" Mum's voice exploded from the mobile. "Daddy and I are so surprised by your call."

"I'm glad that you… answered… that I can talk to you both," I said as my knees and voice shook.

"Is everything alright dear? Nothing's wrong is it?" she asked.

I took a deep breath. "No, not at all, not really… uhm, but here's the _good news_. Al has asked me to marry and I said yes!"

"Oh my goodness," Dad said, while mum shouted with pleasure. "So congrats then. When, when will all this be happening?"

"In a few weeks," I said and gave them the date. "Bit soon, not much notice, I know, but I hope… well, you'll _probably_ be busy with your work, but if you _are_ able to come for a visit… I would like you to come. To our wedding."

Mum started laughing. "Oh sweetheart, _of course_ we'll be there! We're so happy for you!"

I could hear Dad sniffling. "My little girl, all grown, and now going to be married. Amazingly good news. No great news! We're very happy, aren't we Tara?"

"Oh my gosh, Jack we are, we really are – _truly_ are," Mum added. "Oh Jack, we'll have to get on to the airlines and reserve tickets straight away."

"Yes dear, as soon as we're done talking to our daughter. Fantastic news. And we're sure that you must be very happy as well, Al."

"Oh, yes, ecstatic," Al mumbled so I gave him an elbow. He spoke up, "Yes, yes sir, very, very happy here as well." He tipped his head at me. "Go on," he whispered to me.

"Right, and there's more," I told them. "Better, maybe."

"More? What news could better than the news that you're getting married," Dad asked.

I had to take a deep breath, Al put a hand on my shoulder to steady me. "Right, so, here's the other bit; you are going to grandparents."

All I heard was static from them my tiny mobile speaker.

"Mum, Dad? You still there?" I asked.

"Mr. and Mrs. Newcross?" Al added. "Hello?"

"Uhm, yes. Still here," Mum replied. "My, that is… amazing news. This will…"

"Yes, goodness," Dad said. "Wow. Quite a shock, isn't it? But, no, right, well… it'll be fine."

"Right, Dad," I said as my throat felt tight and it got hard to say more. "It will all be _just_ fine."

Mum said, "Yes, well, if that's… the case. But preggers? Morwenna! Are you sure? Sure about all this?" and then the line dropped.

I blew air from my nose and switched off the mobile. "Yes, Mum, I am sure," I mumbled and then I burst into tears.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 – Mums

I was working on my class work, when I heard a tap at the kitchen door. I opened it and Morwenna was standing there with a miserable expression. "Morwenna? What's the matter?" I said.

"Can I come in?" she asked plaintively. "I need to talk."

"Martin's out. He had a call. Come in." I closed the door behind her and she stood there twisting her bracelet around her arm. She looked anxiously at me.

"On a Sunday?" Morwenna shook her head. ""I suppose they couldn't bother to go into Wadebridge."

"Yeah," I sighed. Sunday was the only full day that Martin took off; the one day we could spend time together. "Well, you know. When a patient calls?"

Morwenna nodded.

"He ought to be home soon," I told her.

"I need to talk to you," the girl said.

"Oh. Right. Well James is napping, and I was doing my homework."

She smiled. "How's that going?"

"Hard at times, but I like it." the material was hard but challenging; gave me a chance to stretch my mental muscles.

"I was never very good at school work," she muttered.

"But you were such a good student and I know how much Martin values your help in his practice. Let's go into the front room." I led her to the sofa and made her sit. I took the chair opposite. "And how are things?"

"Fine," she said, "No, I'm not."

She didn't want to speak to Martin so was this medical? "The baby?"

She put her hand on her belly and smiled. "Now it's fine, or he, or she. All fine in that department. Not even very sick in the mornings. But I find I have to wee a lot." She laughed.

I dipped my head, smiling. "Happens. Now, if you don't want to see Martin, and it's not medical, and the baby is fine? Just what then?"

She sighed. "Parents can be such a pain."

"Bert?"

"No. I mean Al's Dad can be a pain, just not right now. We told him about gettin' married and the baby. He's happy for us. Oh, and the date is set. We met with the Curate and it's the second Saturday next month."

"I'll put that on our calendar. Go on."

She shook her head. "Called my folks. Got through first try – a miracle. My Dad was pretty sympathetic, or I think so. Hard to tell over the phone. And he's always been – accepting – I guess. Always accepting any thing I tell him."

I was waiting for the next bit. "And your mum wasn't."

She shook her head. "Tara and me, well we don't always see eye to eye, not that she were around very much even when I was little."

Her grandfather did most of her raising; years and years, while Jack and Tara had bigger fish to fry. I always wondered how they could go so far away to help other people's kids and ion so doing ignore their own. But then again, my mum was more interested in her own life than mine, as well as my Dad's. "But you invited them to the wedding," I said.

"Yeah," she said slowly.

"Are they coming?"

She winced. "I hope so."

I leaned forward. "This is about your mum, then."

Morwenna licked her lips. "I recall that your mum wasn't here for your wedding."

At least she didn't bring up my dad, for everyone knew where he was; for her was a guest of Her Majesty. "No. I didn't… didn't actually… _invite_ her."

"I see." She went back to playing with her bracelets. " _History_."

"Right, there is; we do. Morwenna don't you want your mum to see you get married?"

"I… I do… I suppose."

"And you've asked her."

"Yeah. But she didn't sound very happy about… me getting married _or_ having a baby."

"But you've held out a hand to her, and you can only hope that she will take it."

She shook her head. "But, Louisa, you know who I want to be there? Granddad."

I nodded. "He was such a nice man. He worked with my Dad for a while – up at the quarry."

Morwenna swiped at her wet cheeks, so I handed her a tissue, which she used. "Louisa, why do we hate our mums?"

Hate? "My, that _is_ a strong word." Was that what I felt about Eleanor? Not hate, surely. Unhappiness, certainly. Disappointment? Oh yes. Frustration and regret, plus lost chances too.

"Okay. Not hate. But why are we so damn prickly when we're together?"

I shook my head. Becoming a grownup is knowing that everything isn't all nice and rosy. "I was ten when my mum left the village, so, me and Dad had to muddle through."

Morwenna's eyes painfully pierced mine. "I was seven when Tara and Jack went away. See? I don't even call them Mum and Dad! Isn't that awful? Granddad and Gran were my parents, really. _They_ raised me, and Gran died the next year; just months after they left." She moaned and twisted the wet tissue. "And it was Granddad who took me to the store when I needed my first bra. Not my mum. So…," she sighed. "Just how interested has she ever been in me?"

I shook my head. "You feel like you're ignored, that what you're feeling?"

She looked up. "God that is a word. _Ignored_. That might be it. Spot on."

I went to her, got down on my knees and put my arms around her. "Morwenna, you are not alone. You have Al and Bert, plus me and Martin, and the whole village, and in time - your baby."

She rested her head on my shoulder. "Thanks… thanks for sayin' that Louisa."

The back door flew open and Martin stomped in a rush swinging his medical bag in irritation. "Stupid, stupid man!" he was shouting. "He had a bleeding hangnail! Can you imagine? What _is it_ with the people in this _god-forsaken_ place? A bunch of fools…" He stopped when he saw me holding Morwenna. "Uhm, anything the matter? Is something wrong?" he asked.

Morwenna gave me a wide-eyed stare, so I answered him. "No Martin, just girl talk."

He dropped his head. "Right. Then, I'll just… put my bag away," he muttered uncomfortably, and then went towards his consulting room.

Morwenna chuckled. "Oh it was girl talk, Doc."

I brushed a loose hair from her forehead. "Your mum will come around. You'll see."

Morwenna sighed. "I hope so."

"It'll be fine. Now we need to find you a wedding dress."

"Oh my gosh!" Her hand flew to her mouth. "There's not much time."

"Well, we'd better get started then," I told her.

"You'll help me, what? Find a dress?"

"Certainly. Let's get on the computer and look up dress shops in Truro."

She sighed. "How much will this cost? I… don't have that much money."

I smiled. "I'll help with that a bit, if you'll let me?"

Morwenna hugged me fiercely. "Oh Louisa, you are the best!"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 – Advice

Dad sighed heavily, from where he leaned against the bar.

"Problem?" I asked him, as I wiped down the pub bar. It had been a busy night last night, and the local singing group threw quite a bash here. I'd not got all the rubbish packed away last night, so I was rushing to get it done this morning. Plus I had made arrangements to meet with Mor' and the Curate about our details.

Dad wrinkled his nose. "I was thinkin' boy."

When my dad said things like this it was usually fraught with a disaster in the making. "About?"

"Weddin' at the church."

"Right."

"And a reception at the Town Hall."

"Yeah. Something wrong with that?"

Dad shook his head. "No, but the way I see it… just a word of advice, boy…"

The front door swung open and Joe Penhale stuck his head in. "Al?"

"Hi Joe," I said to him.

"Joe," Dad said, and rolled his eyes, as he whispered. "Poor fella. No bride for him."

Joe smiled, as he marched in a Clint Eastwood-style stride. Hard to imagine Joe as a gunslinger, but with his thumbs hooked over his belt, he sure looked straight from an American cowboy movie to me. He faced me with a stern look. "Al Large."

What's going on? With Joe you never now. "You know that's my name, Joe."

"Yeah, right. I know that. But I'm here to inform you that an official complaint has been lodged against you – _and_ this public house."

I stood up straighter. "What about?"

Dad chuckled. "Oh come on, Joe," he moaned.

Joe answered him, "Mr. Large, I mean _Bert_ , I am having an official conversation with Mr. Large, that is, _Al_ – your son. Please do not intrude into official business or I will have to write out a warning."

"Alright, sheriff." Dad rolled his eyes, then slunk away to a far corner.

"That's CONSTABLE," Joe scolded him.

Dad raised his hands in supplication. "Fine - _Constable_. Joe, I'll just sit over here real quiet like. That okay?" He sat down with his back to the wall, but I knew he'd be trying very hard to hear everything that was said.

Joe nodded at him. "That is good. Citizen."

I shook my head at Joe. "What's this about then?"

Joe took out his notebook, flipped it open, and held a pen over the pages as a pointer. "Ahem, at oh ten twenty-three this morning, I received a complaint from a resident of the village that there were _loud_ and _boisterous_ voices, as well as _music_ , coming from this public house the previous night. That would be _last_ night. Now, Mr. Large, as the proprietor of this establishment..."

"In case you forgot, Joe, I just run it – manage it. I don't _own_ it. Ken owns it."

Joe scribbled a note in his notebook. "Sorry, forgot that. Yeah, well, but you were here – on the premises – last night."

"I was. The village singers were celebrating and I will admit, that they _might_ have gotten a _teeny bit_ noisy. But that was around, oh say ten. They were celebrating a new CD they brought out."

Joe smiled. "I know. I bought a copy. It's pretty good." He lowered his voice. "If you'd like to borrow it from me, I could bring it around later?"

I held up my hand. "No, I'm good."

Joe straightened and then climbed back into his official cop-persona. "Now then, this citizen lodged a complaint."

"Who was it?"

Joe shook his head. "I'd rather not say. But he's a resident of the village."

"Look Joe, I'd like to know who complained. Was it old man Settles? He complains after I make him leave, you know that. When I cut him off – and you know that I always keep track of the patrons; how much they drink – he always gives me the business. Was it him again?"

He looked around warily. "I… really, can't… say." he stammered.

"I have a right to know who my accuser is."

"That's in a court of law, Mr. Large," he told me. "This is a pub. Not a court of law."

I sighed. "Fine, then. I'll tell you what happened, uh, last evening."

Joe flipped the page over on his notebook and made ready to make notes. "Shoot. Uhm, I mean tell me the circumstances."

"Right. So the singers were pretty happy." And how, for it was a smashing night between the grub and the drink. I made £680 last night, above the daily rent, the cost of supplies, plus paying the cook and the waitresses. "And they were, shall we say, _celebrating_ about the new CD."

"I _knew_ it! And they were loud as well!" Joe said with satisfaction as if he'd just caught Jack the Ripper.

"No, not really," I protested. "That's… not quite the story. Now look, Joe, I'm not admitting anything. Just tellin' you what happened."

Joe nodded. "Mr. Large, please proceed with your statement." His pen was poised over paper.

Dad was wagging his head over in the corner and twirling a finger by his temple. Yes Joe was a bit… oh what's a good word? Self-important, but harmless. Mostly. Bodmin, though. A good bloke is Joe, just puffed-up, sorta'.

I swallowed hard. "Right, okay. So along about ten…"

Joe smiled. "Yes, about ten o'clock, that would be twenty-two hundred hours."

I held up my hands. "They were happy, right? Them and their wives and girlfriends, and what not. They were playing the music on a boom box that one brought in; and it wasn't very loud. They were singing too. Mr. Settles kept barging in, signing along like, and off key. Not that he can sing at all, but he started to get nasty with 'em. Said how he'd wanted to join the group long ways back, and they didn't take him in; said he couldn't hold a tune in a bucket." I fixed Joe with my eyes. "And you know that's correct."

Joe chuckled. "Jimmy Settles can screech a bit, can't he?"

"Especially when the beer is in him. Three pints along and he gets louder and louder…"

"And more off-key," Dad butted in. "My ears are still achin' from it. Like somebody was strangling a chicken. Although a dying chicken would sound better."

I nodded at Dad. "And that's when I asked Mr. Settles to go home. Especially when he offered to fight both Bill and Paul at once."

Joe stood straighter. "Bill Williams and his cousin Paul?" he gulped. "The two biggest men in the village?"

I nodded. Bill and Paul Williams were the giants of the village, and not to be trifled with. Nice; usually. Bill sang tenor and Paul bass with the singers. But don't rile 'em up - not ever. "Exactly. I had to escort Mr. Settles out the door and point him the way home. In fact one of the other fellows walked him home; to make sure he got there. That was… uhm…" I scratched my head.

"George Wilkens," Dad said.

"Yeah, that's right. George. Anyway, you know since his missus died Mr. Settles hasn't been, uhm, very _steady_? So, Joe, I figure that this is about settling a score, as it were."

Joe laughed. "Settle a score? Ha!" he closed his notebook. "I'll go speak with him. Public toxibcation, bother people in a pub…"

"Just let it go, Joe," I told him. "No harm done. Right? And he wasn't quite drunk, just a bit tipsy."

Joe shook his head sadly. "I can't have anyone on my patrol patch makin' false accusations."

"Oh _please_ Joe!" Dad pleaded. "Let it go!"

Joe pursed his lips and addressed me. "So you are _not_ interested in swearing out a counter complaint?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, no!" I said.

Joe snapped his notebook closed and put it and pen away. "And I hear you and Morwenna are engaged," he smiled in his goofy way.

I looked over at my Dad, who tried to act innocent. "Yeah, we are." Dad must have told him.

"Next month, I hear," Joe said slowly.

"That's right," Dad answered.

Joe sighed deeply. "Al? you thought about this?"

"Yeah, we have," I told him. "I asked her and she said _yes_."

"Settling down huh? At last? First Elaine, and then Pauline, and now Morwenna Newcross."

I felt very uncomfortable as he looked at me. "Morwenna and me… well… you know. Together."

His eyes bored into me. "Both of you? Serious about this?"

"We are."

"And you two…" he clasped his hands together. "Like that?"

I answered. "Yes."

"A serious thing, is marriage," Joe said. "Don't…"

"Don't?" Dad asked. "Don't what?"

Joe looked down at the floor. "Take your time, and don't you bollix it up, Al Large. Because it hurts way too much - when you do," came out of him slowly. Then he turned, and not looking at either me or dad, shuffled to the door and was gone.

"Poor Joe," I said.

Dad muttered, "There's a man who needs a girlfriend. What is that the policemen in Portwenn can _never_ find happiness? Mark Mylow fell in love with that Julie. That didn't work out; then Mark left. Ran away. God knows where he ended up! And then Joe had his girl dump him at the altar."

"Dad, Joe and Janice… I guess they weren't ready." I knew more than I would say. Morwenna heard from Janice that she'd gone up to Bristol and started over there. "Pity. Tough for both of 'em."

"Joe tried way too hard," Dad sighed. "But you know Joe; gung-ho Joe he is. No half measures. Full throttle or not at all!"

"Dad, he wanted to get married and she didn't; at the end." I didn't tell Dad that Janice had been married and divorced twice. She had stuck with Joe until the last minute, if not to the second. Then her nerve went.

"Then why did Janice tell him _yes_?"

I shrugged. "Maybe she didn't know how to say _no_." That made me think. I'd rushed things along with Mor' the last few weeks. A baby on the way, a proposal, and then a wedding coming up. I sighed loudly.

Dad asked, "Problem, boy?"

"I hope not, Dad." But I wondered.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 – Cold Feet

Miss Edwards, the village Curate, smiled as she asked, "And how are we doing today?"

Al muttered, "Fine."

We were sitting in her office once more, which seemed to be even messier than before, but when you looked at Rose Edwards she was very well turned out. I gave Al a look, for he was acting oddly when he picked me up to come to the church. I asked him what was going on, but he'd only shrugged. "Fine, at least I am," I answered her.

"Well, we ought to talk about flowers, and the music. Were you planning on having Mrs. Tishell play? Or bring in somebody else?"

Al shrugged. "Donnoh."

She leaned toward him. "Are you alright, Mr. Large?"

Al sat motionless. "Mm?" he answered after a few seconds. "Sorry. You said somethin'?"

"Yes, I did. I asked, how _are_ _you_? And I asked about other things."

He shrugged. "I'm…" he squinted at me. "Fine. I reckon."

"Fine, you think, that what we're saying?"

"Uhm, yeah. Right. Just…" He rubbed his face. "Tired I suppose. Late night."

The Curate then faced me. "And how is the blushing bride?"

Ought I to tell her I had to wee all the time? Or that I suddenly was aware of so many smells? That the smell of frying cod made me sick, but that haddock didn't? And the sight of flowers made me happy? How did that make sense anyway? Hormones plus physiological changes, the Doc would say. Part of the gestational process; both icky and amazing at the same time. "Maybe not so blushing, more… more concerned."

"What about?" the Curate said.

"Oh, everything. The weddin', what flowers we should have, ought I to invite everyone, or just a few? And…" Al start to nod, in agreement, I suppose. "My parents."

"And what about your parents?" she asked.

"Jack and Tara, they are," Al grunted. "Africa."

"Yeah, they're down in Kenya. Mission work," I added to Al's answer.

"Are they clergy?" the Curate asked.

"No. Not that they can't be a bit _churchy_. Sorry. But they can be a…. driven by the mission work they do there. They work for a non-profit that builds schools, that sort of thing."

The Curate smiled. "Splendid. I always wondered what that would be like; working with the needy, especially in a far away land. The good Lord said that we have the poor always, but that does not mean we should ignore them. But we have poor people here as well."

Al bobbed his head. "Yes."

"But…" I took a deep breath, "I have invited them…" Suddenly my mouth started to quiver. The Curate gave me a tissue which I blew my nose on. "But… not sure they'll come. It's a long way, and the tickets are costly."

The Curate folded her hands. "Let us pray for all travelers." She closed her eyes and her lips moved.

Al rolled his eyes at the Curate, in irritation I guess, so I poked him and he yelped.

"Problem?" she asked us.

"Ah, no," coughed Al, "I thought… a…. bee flew by."

The Curate's started in alarm as she looked around the room. "A bee. Well," she sighed, "I hope it leaves. I'm allergic. Hives and so forth. Swelling; shortness of breath. Had to go to hospital when I was kid. But they are God's creatures too, hee-hee."

"Anaphylaxis," I told her.

"That's it," she replied, then she dug into her robe, and took out a large plastic device. "This has my epinephrine. Never go anywhere without it. I know it's not the bee's fault, but even so. Better safe than sorry. I was on a flight once and another passenger started gasping and choking! Poor thing. Bee bite. Had to shoot them up."

"Sting," Al said to her. "Bees don't bite."

"Are you sure?"

He grinned. "Yep. Stingers."

She smiled. "Oh Lord here we are trying to talk about _you_ and your _wedding_! Then I go off nattering on about bees and epi-pens. Now, where were we?"

"My parents," I answered.

"Right. Parents. I was going to be married but my parents couldn't be there. _Awful_ feeling," she said in a grim tone.

I looked at Al as he said, "But you're not married."

"No. Not now. I mean, I went, but… it didn't happen… the wedding. He'd…" She turned her desk chair to face away. Then I saw her wipe her face from the way her arms moved.

During Joe and Janice's ceremony the Curate had babbled on about how her fella had dumped her and how unfair that was and how marriage was sacred. "Miss Edwards?" I said softly. "I… am… _sorry_ that happened."

She sighed and then turned back to face us. "Right. Water under the dam."

"You mean water under the _bridge_ ," Al snorted. "It's water _over_ the dam."

"Is it? Yes. Exactly," she answered. "Bridge. That. Now what about your parents?"

I explained how they were surprised and shocked at the news.

She asked, "And think they don't approve?"

"I…"

Al cleared his throat. "Sudden like. I hope… they get used to us, uhm, me."

The Curate shook her head. "Do you think they don't like the fact that their only child is going to marry you, Al?"

Al shook his head. "Maybe."

I took Al's hand. "Oh no, Al. Can't be that. They're fine… with us, I think."

Al stood up while I clung to his fingers. "Might be. But, I'm not _exactly_ the cream of the crop, am I? I could tell that they weren't very happy when they found out we were…" his face fell. "Together."

"Or from fact that you went to open the door in my dressing gown? The one with the flowers?" I had to laugh. "Just maybe pink isn't your color."

"But, I didn't have a shirt _on_ Morwenna!"

Even the Curate chuckled. "Might be a good idea to dress for the occasion in future; when you answer the door."

Al blew air from his nose, with his mouth clamped tightly. "I'll try to remember your advice," he said grumpily.

I rubbed his hand, but there was no life in his fingers. "Al. Al?"

He sighed. "Sorry. There's been a lot on my mind."

"What would that be?" the Curate asked. "Sit, please. Let's chat about this."

Al shook my hand away as he dropped back to the chair. "It's all a bit sudden. The wedding and everything."

Rosie gave me a funny look, so I asked him, "Don't you want to marry me, Al?"

He nodded. "I do."

"Then… what is going on?"

Al rubbed the back of his neck, the way he does when he's upset or nervous. Then he leaned forward with elbows on knees and stared at the floor. "Maybe… I'm thinkin' that I'm not the right fella, Mor'," he said slowly.

"How can you say that? My God Al, I…" My hand went to my belly. "Of course, you're the right fellow! You're my boyfriend, and… I'm _carryin'_ your child. I mean it's my child as well, but I surely didn't get this baby started on my own, now did I?"

He sat there morosely.

"AL?" Come on Al. Don't get all nervous now. Bloody hell. Is this going to be a repeat of Louisa and the Doc?

"Yeah?" he groaned.

"I _love you_ Al Large and I _always will_ , come what may. Come on, buck up."

He sniffed. "I guess I wondered. I kinda forced you into this."

I put my arm over his and took his hand. "You didn't force me into anything, Al Large! Don't be a gloomy Gus, will you? And I'm nervous too."

He looked at me with some sort of relief to his face. "You're…" he gulped, "nervous?"

"Good God yes!" I said. "Sorry Curate."

The Curate had been silent, but when I looked at her I saw she was crying. "Oh you two…" she sniffled, "true love is so hard… hard to have…. hard to hold on to." She stopped. "Do you both want to get married?"

"We do," Al and I said in unison, and that set the Curate to crying even more.

"Good… good…" she blubbered. "Now about the flowers…"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 – The Dress

"I'm not sure about this one, Louisa," Morwenna said as she looked at herself in the mirror. "Awful frilly. And poofy."

"It does have a lot of lace, doesn't it?" I agreed.

Amy, the wedding dress saleswoman, rolled her eyes. The shop was small, and rather dowdy looking from outside on the block over from High Street in Truro, yet the interior was spic and span as well as bright. Morwenna and I were the only customers though.

"It does," I repeated.

"Kinda scratchy as well," Morwenna added.

The saleswoman's mouth clamped down. "Less lace; less frilly."

"That's what I want," Morwenna told her. "Maybe…"

I and the saleswoman looked at each other, for this was the fifth dress she'd tried on.

"Maybe simpler? And… something to hide my belly."

"There may be something in the back with an empire waist, let me look," Amy sighed. "Just be a tick."

I followed her, asking, "A word please?" at the back of the shop.

She turned stiffly. "Fine."

I cleared my throat. "My friend… well she's going to have a baby."

Amy nodded. "Ah. I thought so. Buying a dress in such a rush."

"Right. And when we do find something, can you something? Look, just don't tell her the price. I'll buy it for her no matter the cost."

Amy smiled. "That's what sisters do."

"I'm not her sister. Don't have a sister."

Amy looked over her shoulder to where Morwenna was posing in front of the mirror. "I see."

"I'm just – oh, a good friend – and she works for my husband."

Amy smiled. "Good of you to help her out." She turned and disappeared into the storage room in the back.

I thought back to when I bought my wedding dresses, and I did it on my own, not having anyone I felt comfortable enough to give me input. So the fact that Morwenna is letting me do this says what? We're friends? I glanced at the girl. Kind of friends.

I returned to Morwenna who was pressing the dress against herself, "I'm gonna look like a cow, aren't I?" she said to me. "Blow up like a balloon."

"Oh nonsense. Least not…"

"For a while?"

"Right."

She shook her head. "Gonna get fat and slow." Morwenna sighed. "I don't want to lose my figure, but it's for the baby anyway."

"You'll be fine. You'll get it back; your figure." I had a feeling that she'd be one of the "all belly and baps" mums, without an ounce of fat in the wrong spot. I was still struggling with some of it.

She smiled. "Thank you for helping me. I don't know what I'd do…" she sniffled and turned away.

I pulled a tissue from my handbag and she took it.

Morwenna wiped her eyes and nose. "Better not bugger up this dress. I don't want to buy it – don't like it."

Amy came back with a different dress on a hanger. "I found this. Empire waist, no train, no frills. Cap sleeves, modest coverage over the chest, and no cleavage shown," she described it. "Cream polysatin." She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "Last year's model, so it's a good price, and your size I think."

Morwenna touched the material. "Ooh. Lovely."

"Let's try it on, shall we?" Amy said.

Morwenna followed her to the dressing room. Sister? The saleswoman had asked me. Not quite. But villagers, both, and she and I are tall, brunettes, and slender. And more than that as well. Each of us with wayward parents was a good way to put it. When I was at Uni all of my friends came from stable two-parent homes. No divorces or runaway mums, and no Spanish gigolos. At least none that they mentioned. Holly, Kate, Nathalie, Sheri, Linda, and me. The six girls we were then. We'd shared a lot of things in those days, even, to our surprise, a boyfriend or two. Plenty of classes, dances, midnight study sessions, Ramen noodles, and wine. Long ago – so far back in time. I still heard from them once in a while. Some were married, and others divorced; some not at all, such as Holly. And a few children over the years too. We'd always thought about a reunion but it never happened. Oh well, but with family, and jobs, and moves all over, it hadn't ever occurred.

Amy appeared at the dressing room door and waved for me to come, so I walked towards her. She swept the door open in dramatic fashion to reveal Morwenna. Oh my goodness! The dress was perfect. It fit her like a glove, and in all the right places. Her long, bare arms framed the material accentuating the length of the skirt and her slender shape. If there was a pregnant belly under there it was perfectly hidden. The dress had a sparkly belt under the bust and the skirt fell to the floor from it in dramatic folds. Amy had found a tiara with an attached veil which matched the dress perfectly.

"Silk veil," Amy said. "Which matches the color of the dress material perfectly."

Morwenna stared at herself in the mirror, then turned to me in wonder. Her hands brushed the material, then she caressed her chest and felt the cap sleeves. "This… this _might_ be it."

"It is beautiful on you," I said. "So pretty."

Morwenna shook her head. "Really?"

"Dramatic. And you are beautiful in it," Amy told her. She walked around her with a critical eye. "I don't even think it will need any alterations. That will save time."

"Time?" Morwenna asked. And money, I thought.

"You can have it next week, if you want. The hem needs a bit of pressing, is all."

"How much?" Morwenna asked, her voice quivering.

"Discounted," Amy said, with a wink at me. "Last year's stock. Let me just go… and see… hm, what the total will be."

Morwenna looked at her mirror reflection wide-eyed. "I _never_ imagined."

"What?"

She sighed. "That I'd find _anything_ this _beautiful_." She bit her lip. "This is gonna cost a pretty penny."

I waved her comment away. "Pish. We'll see."

The saleswoman returned with a paper in hand. "Last year's stock, discontinued style, and the veil comes with it, unless you want a longer one?"

"No… this, uhm, seems fine," Morwenna answered.

"With your hair worn down it will be wonderful." I smiled at her encouragingly. "How much is it?"

Amy sighed. "Well, I did see a little dirty spot down by the hem, and that drops the price somewhat. We can spot clean it when we get it ready for you. Say £350?"

Morwenna shook like a leaf with fright. "Oh, that's a lot more than…"

I cleared my throat.

"Ye… s," Amy stammered, "And… taking… that into account… call it… £300?"

I coughed. "With _both_ tiara and veil."

" _Right_ ," Amy winced. "I could let you have it for… £270?"

Morwenna stared at her image in the mirror. "Oh Louisa, this is… a lot of money, but… this is the one."

"We'll take it," I said.

Amy nodded her head, and mouthed the words three-hundred, which I nodded to. The dress was worth at least twice that amount. Al would be pleased, and from the way that Morwenna glowed in it, she was very happy. It felt very good to do something both positive and helpful.

The saleswoman grinned. "Now what about undergarments? And shoes? We have some _lovely_ pieces over here, and these nightgowns are _very_ nice," she gushed. "Interested?"

Morwenna beamed. "I ought to at least _look_ at those."

I had a feeling that the discount on the dress was going to be costly. "Sure… might as well," I answered. Martin would go through the roof when he found out what I was spending.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 – Gifts

When Louisa told me about her day's events and the money she had spent, I felt blood rush to my face. "You spent how much?"

She ducked her head. "Not so loud, Mar-tin. You'll wake James."

"Fine," I lowered my voice. James had gone down for a nap just minutes before Louisa returned home. He'd resisted taking a rest until I read him the train book, and only then did he accept having a lie-down.

"The girl needed a wedding dress. You surely don't expect her to marry Al in a pair of blue jeans and flip-flops do you?" Louisa hissed.

I thought she'd have to wear a blouse as well, but I suppressed those words. "But £520?"

"Yes, Mar-tin! It's my money too. I work, you know."

"Part time."

"And I'm in school! Taking classes!"

"Yes. Let's not wake James?"

She froze, mouth agape. "Right," she answered softly.

I eyed her warily for she was very upset, perhaps more than me. "I appreciate that you…"

"Want to do something nice. And I have. It is part of a _gift_ for her and Al, got it?"

I held up my hands. "Alright." Clearly she had her own ideas about this and I was losing the argument; in fact had lost it long before it started.

She bit her lip. "Plus I said we ought to get together with Bert about a reception."

I closed my eyes. "Fine." I turned away, and walked into my surgery, where I sat down and started working on next week's supply list. Most I could order through the Chemist but some had to be done on-line. I was switching on my laptop when Louisa came in.

"We weren't finished," she said.

"What is you wish to say?"

She sat down in front of my desk. "Martin, I'm not going to fight you about this. But let me explain…"

"You feel that Morwenna and Al need some help with their wedding, and so you have decided to do so. Fine. Good." I turned back to the computer and then looked up at her. "Is that all?"

She shook her head. "I…"

"Yes? Something more?"

"Ooh. Why do you have to be so… so?"

I can think of a number of words she might be searching for. Rude, brash, tosser (no she'd never say that to me), grumpy (that one she does use), or pig-headed came to mind.

Her face screwed up. "Bloody factual?"

I sighed. "I suppose I am. Look, you already said that you want to help Morwenna, and you have – er, are – so continue."

"Continue?" she said as a surprised look came to her face.

"Yes. You are right."

"I'm right?"

"To do so. Al and Morwenna; they need our help."

She brightened. "Ahm. Okay."

"Oh, by the way, Ruth told me that she was going to pay for the reception. She told me yesterday. Perhaps she has not told Al yet, and therefore Morwenna hasn't heard this news."

"Oh my gosh! Brilliant." She smiled. "That's really good news. Good old Ruth. She is very fond of Al."

"And from I was told by a patient the church ladies' club is paying for the flowers and decorations."

"Who told you that?"

"Uhm… name… old woman, blonde hair, wears a pull-over cap." I snapped my fingers in irritation.

"Ethel? Ethel Wilkens?"

"That's the one." I didn't mention that she and her friend had tattooed DNR across their chests. Strange people. "Mrs. Wilkens."

Louisa grinned. "Goodness. I'd better contact them; the church ladies."

I nodded. "And Louisa… I…"

"What?"

"I also wanted to say…" How to say this? That I've been thinking about something we talked about the other night and a few days later? "About James."

"What about James? Is he sick?" She jumped up to run upstairs, I suppose.

"No. Stop. James is fine." Still sleeping, I hoped. "Wait, yes, this _is_ about James. Somewhat."

She looked at me cockeyed. " _Somewhat_? Just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

I stood, shot my cuffs, cleared my throat, and then walked to stand close to her. "Louisa. This would be a…"

"A what?"

A gift, I thought. "A sort of a present for James." And you and me as well, I thought, if you accept it.

She looked at me in alarm. "Martin?"

I put my arms around her and held her gently.

"Oh," she said as she pressed the side of her face against me. "Hug."

"Ahm, yes." I rubbed her back gently as I laid my head against hers. "You asked me a question some time ago. The answer is yes."

"Yes to what? What question did I ask?" She stared up into my eyes.

Her body was soft and warm, and she smelled of Kenzo Flower. "Children," I said quietly.

"Children?" Now she looked at me more intently, as she chewed at her lip.

Suddenly I felt very warm. "Uhm, about… ahem, having more… that is, _another_ …"

Now I had her full attention. "Another what?" she asked. "Surely not another dog. One is quite enough," she chuckled.

"No! Dot a dog!" Blasted dog. I regretted the day I agreed we would take it. "A baby!" I blurted out. "Yes… that is… if you… want to… to… have another child. With me of course. I'd be… uhm, willing… to try… to have a… another…uhm, baby… with you. If you want to. That is if you still want to. You can say no, obviously. Your choice. I appreciate that you may have changed your mind… since you asked me."

Her mouth fell open, and her head went down, so the top of it was pressed against my sternum, hiding her face behind her hair. But her arms tightened around me.

"Louisa?" I asked. "Are you alright?"

Her face came up and I saw she had the most wonderful smile as she looked up at me. Her arms pulled me closer and I felt her pelvis and torso press closely against mine. "Oh yes, Martin! I'd like that. I'd like that _very_ much. That will be a lovely…" Her arms pulled me closer. " _Gift._ Thank you."

"No guarantee of course… that we could… conceive again. And it may take some time to properly chart your ovulation cycles…"

She put a hand behind my head and pulled my mouth into a deep and very satisfying kiss, and we stood together for quite some time.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 – Story

I didn't often go down to the pub, but I knew that is where I would find Al. He was there of course, stocking his wares behind the bar.

"Oh, hello, Ruth," he said when he saw me.

"Hello Al." I peered around the empty room. "Not many customers."

"Uhm, it's only two PM. But I can get you something. Glass of wine? Coffee?"

"I know that; just making conversation."

He ran his hand over his face. "So, what can I get you?"

I leaned against the bar. "You know this place reminds me of my school days." When his eyes widened, I added, "University. Medical school actually."

"I see."

The room had the same sorts of beams overhead and the rough plaster on the walls. "But I suppose most pubs look about the same."

"Okay." He craned his neck. "Dr. Ellingham, hope I'm not being rude but I have about a million things to get done in the next couple of hours."

I grinned. "Call me Ruth, Al. we're friends; at least I hope so. My nephew told me that you are going to marry that pretty receptionist. You know the one. Morwenna Newcross."

He smiled. "Heard of her. And that's right; me and Morwenna – marriage – all that."

"Once upon a time I thought I might married, and I never did." I took a deep breath. "But I was young and trying to make a name for myself in psychology. I thought there would be plenty of time." I found myself looking at my ring less hands. "But… things didn't work out." There was no need to tell the boy that there had been three suitors, but I always told them no. "So, all that, as you say."

He scratched his neck. "Uhm, yeah."

I took a deep breath. "I know that our business dealings didn't work out."

"The B&B," he replied. "Just couldn't get it going; at least not long enough." He gave me a long and grim stare for I'd pulled the plug on the venture after too many fits and starts – as well as Bert getting involved, with the usual consequences.

"I am sorry about that Al. Perhaps I should have given you more guidance."

"But you wanted to be…"

"An involved partner, but not _actually_ be doing _anything_." I slapped the polished wood surface of the bar. "But all the same, this time I am going to do _something_ ; not to make it up, because that's water under the bridge. However, this is for you and your brief-to-be. So, you and Morwenna set up whatever you want for a wedding reception – large or small – food, drink, et cetera and I will pay for it." I smiled. " Besides, it saves me trying to find a gift and get it wrapped. With my arthritis I can't handle the cello tape as well as I might."

"Huh?"

"I'm paying for your reception, Al! The rent on a place, food, drink, decorations, and music. Just please, _please_ , if you have a _live_ band, don't engage one of those groups that cranks their electric guitars up to eleven, and then screams about the end of the world and mega-death." I nodded to him encouragingly. "What do you say to that?"

He shook his head. "You're paying for the whole thing," he said slowly.

"Lock, stock, and barrel. The entire affair."

"Oh Ruth, that's…"

I waited, watching his mouth work silently.

"Woo-hoo!" he shouted and practically launched himself over the bar, to throw his arms around me. His arms dropped. "Sorry, Ruth, that's bloody generous of you. Ahm, thank you."

I smiled. "You're welcome."

"Might be, lordy, I have no idea who much it might all cost."

I took a folded sheet of paper from my handbag and slid it across the bar. "I asked around and made some estimates. If my figures are too low, let me know."

He picked up the paper, unfolded it, and read my figures. "Oh my. This is…" he gulped. "Extremely… _generous,_ Ruth. But I can't accept this! This is too much!"

I closed my handbag and backed away. "Take it or leave it. You're choice. But I really don't think you ought to rely on your Dad to just throw something together at the last minute? And besides, I like you Al, and Morwenna. You make a cute couple." Suddenly one of my eyes felt teary, so I had to wipe it. "If I had a son?" I had to turn away. "I think he might have looked much like you. Ta."

I got out of the pub before I broke down. Sometimes personal stories are best left untold. Al didn't need to know that I did have a child, once; a very long time ago, and he had died as an infant. Crib death they called it. His father never knew for it was only after we broke up that I found I was carrying the child. And in the meantime he'd married someone else. A story I'd shared with very few people. Some of those were now gone. Joanie knew of course. Martin and Louisa knew, because I told them – family matter.

I was working up in Scotland at the time, so, it was fairly easy to give the impression that the baby's father was in the Foreign Service, and away on a long, and most secret, assignment. A useful deceit I knew, but it made sense at the time.

After my son was born, and he had died and been buried, I suffered a nervous breakdown (another untold story) and had to go to a rest home in Wales. Rest home; what a lovely name for a spot where we were drugged day and night like zombies. Oh well. I recovered eventually, moved back to London, and started over. I heard much later that my former lover had drowned while on holiday to Crete.

Some of our secret stories must pass away, much like those who keep them. Suddenly I felt very old and broken-down, and despite my gift announcement to Al, very somber.

"Ruth?" It was Al, calling me from the pub doorway.

"Yes Al?"

"I just called Morwenna and she's over the moon! Thank you, thank you so much. I..."

I held up a hand. "Say no more Al." There he stood so very happy. Oh well. I squinted up at the sun. "Maybe I'll take you up on that wine. A red please. And make it a large one."

He bowed, smiled, and escorted me back into the pub. "With crisps?"

Oh what the hell. Then I laughed aloud. "Right. With crisps."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 – Mum

Al was tending the pub, I was home, and it was late. It had been a hard day. Patients were up to their more than usual time-wasting tricks, and the Doc was acting oddly; _almost_ nice, which was strange. Not that having a kind word from the man wasn't nice once in a while, but to hear him actually trying to make small talk felt off somehow. So, anyway that night I was browsing music on YouTube, to get ideas for our wedding, when my mobile buzzed. Without looking at the screen, I answered. "Hello?" All I heard was silence. "Who's there?"

A faint voice finally said, "Morwenna? It's yer… mum." Her voice was broken up by static.

"Ahm, hi! How... oh, how are you?" Tara never called me. If I got a call at all from my parents it was always Dad that made the call. Then he'd pass the phone to her after a while. "Is Dad okay?"

"We're doing… well. But..." I heard through the static.

Something was wrong; I knew it. "Tell me straight. Is Dad sick?"

"No, he's in a community meeting down in the village. I'm at the house by myself."

Good news, then. "And you?"

"I'm fine. My health is holding up. The treatment worked."

"Good, but..." Why did I have a sense of foreboding? "Okay, so, you say you and Dad are healthy."

"Right."

Why has she phoned? "So, how's the weather?" I asked to break the ice.

"Hot. Dusty. Need some rain. But it'll be months before the rainy season anyway."

"Been dry here too," I told her. But Tara didn't call to talk about the weather. Calls from Kenya were expensive, and my parents were so tight with money they squeaked when they walked. I took a deep breath to say she ought to get to the point, but she spoke first.

"Morwenna... how's the baby?"

"We're scheduled for a scan next week. We heard the heartbeat though, in the Doc's office. All good on that score." I had to wait for nearly a minute before she spoke again.

"Morwenna, dearest..."

Dearest? Tara never called me that.

"I... wanted... no need... to tell you..." she stammered.

"Tell me what?"

After more seconds, I heard her say, "Oh this is so hard..."

"Out with it!" God.

"I swore I'd never say this... to you... but... but... I must. Your Dad told me I had to do this... to explain."

I gritted my teeth in frustration, fear, and anger. Oh Lord what is going on? Going to tell me off? "This is about me and Al, yes? You're not happy we're getting married, are you?" I'd heard them running down the Large's when they were in the village. "Well, it doesn't matter what you think! I love Al and he loves me, and we're gonna have this baby together, and raise it up, in our home, together!" I stopped before I shouted what I wanted to. That we'd raise our child all together, and not farm them out to relatives, or worse.

Next I heard her gasp. "Oh God, no Morwenna. You chose him and it's... none of my... our business! This is about a..."

"A what?" I shouted at her.

"A story," she sighed. "A story about us, that is me and your Dad... and you too."

That took some of my fire away. "Then I suppose you'd better get on with it. Go on."

"Right. Well you see, it was, well before you were born. Me and your Dad, before we got married... we... this is... embarrassing. But you see, it was just the once. There was a dance at the Village Hall, and we... it was just cider... but that can sneak up on you. So... we ahm, er, that is..."

It dawned on me what she was trying to tell me. Oh no, don't say it!

"Anyway," she sighed. "We... were... _intimate_. we were going to be married anyway, so what was the harm? So..."

"You get pregnant with me. That it?" I asked, shocked at the admission. Ick!

She started to cry. "Oh no Morwenna. It was our first baby. He... uhm, I miscarried. It was a boy, they told us. I wasn't very far along when I lost it."

Wow! "Oh Mum, I am sorry." I was. Hard to imagine your parents having sex, but there it was, and to suffer the loss of a baby? "I truly am."

She snuffled into me ear through the bad connection. "We got married a few weeks after I lost him. It was... hard... but your Dad was a rock. I was the one who was a mess. But two years later you came along, and nobody ever knew. Not even your grandparents." She sighed. "So, when you were little... I had... trouble... with you. That is, it wasn't your fault, it was mine."

"So, just what are you saying?"

Mum sighed once more. "Today... oh, nowadays, I'd have been sent off for counseling; treatment, to help me cope and be a better mother. It just... I could not quite bond, you see. But you know that."

Yeah. "I know. Noticed that."

"It's never been your fault, dear. It was mine, and I hope that you can... can _forgive_... me. So, when you told us about the baby and your upcoming marriage... I sort of shut down. I didn't, couldn't, help but think about that bad time - for me, I mean." She took a deep breath. "I'm happy for you Morwenna... happy that you found Al. He's a good fellow."

It was a lot to take in. "Sure. Okay. I can work with that. So, maybe we can start over?"

"Oh, I'd like that. Sorry I never said."

Maybe the time was now to move forward with her; even to calling her mum. "It's okay, Mum. Love you."

"And I love you too, Morwenna," she said happily. "Now, when do you want us there? How can I help with your wedding?"


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 – Love

I was lying in the dark next to Martin when he whispered, "Are you alright?"

I reached over and put my arm around him, running my hand in a slow circle around his bare back. "I'm fine."

He reached over and put his hand on my hip. "Uhm, hm. That's good," he yawned as he lay on his side facing me. I was on my back, with my legs up, leaning against his.

I kissed his shoulder. "Goodnight, Martin. Sleep well."

"Yes. You too. Love you," he said sleepily.

I kissed his warm shoulder again. "I love you too."

In short order he was asleep, marked by slow and steady breathing.

I watched Martin's serene face as he lay next to me. Love is a funny thing, isn't it? In a million years you'd never think that the two of us would have gotten together, because we are so different. I like people, and Martin doesn't. I love dogs and he can barely abide them; at least abide Buddy, and if I hadn't insisted we take him in the little dog would be sleeping rough. I like to talk to people, and Martin doesn't – but I know there are plenty of reasons for my husband to be the way he is.

I once told him that there were twenty reasons he was crap. How awful to tell him that! I hugged him and he murmured. I inhaled deeply, getting a good whiff of his scent, which made me happy. But he wasn't crap – not really - that was just me being frustrated for everything seemed to be against us – getting in the way; messing us about.

He and I were so different… so very different. City boy and country girl. Maybe that makes our intimacy so tender. We try to bridge the gap, metaphorically, as well as physically. I smiled. Oh how we just bridged _that_ gap! If I turned my head away from Martin I could see the calendar on the wall; the one I use to track things. I buried my nose against his skin again. Another baby? Well, we'll see. I bit my lip, maybe it happened tonight, and so, _maybe_ in a couple weeks we'll know one way or the other.

I heard James make a noise from across the hall, sort of a snuffle with a thump. I lifted Martin's arm and slithered out from under, got off the bed, and slipped into my dressing gown. I stepped over my pajamas where they lay crumpled after Martin had pulled them off me. James was snoring (takes after his mum!), clutching his purple dinosaur across his chest, with the blanket twisted around his legs.

I rearranged the blanket, and then he rolled over, his cute little mouth making smoochy noises. Lord knows what he's dreaming about. My hand smoothed his hair golden. He needed a haircut again. My how fast he's grown. The other day he was playing with Buddy, the little dog running around him and barking, his tail wagging like mad.

James looked up at me and announced, "Buddy's happy mummy!"

I got down by him. "What makes you say that?"

James hugged Buddy, and put his head against the dog's face. "I can tell. He said so."

"He said so?"

James nodded very sagely. "Yep. He did."

I petted Buddy and the dog woofed and licked my hand. Then he began to lick James' face which set off a huge giggle storm from my son. Yes, Buddy was happy, and so was James, and I was as well to see them playing together so nicely.

After a lingering look at my sleeping son, I got a drink of water from the washroom, roughly raked the tangles from my hair with my fingers, and then got back into bed. I moved slowly so as not to waken Martin, but his eyes flipped open when my weight made the bed jounce.

"Louisa?" he asked, alarmed.

"Sh. Just checking on James."

Martin wrinkled his nose in concern.

"He's fine, Martin."

He nodded. "What time is it?"

"Two."

"Oh."

I snuggled against Martin while he watched me closely.

"You're sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Yep."

He sighed into my ear.

"Problem?" I asked.

"Sorry. I was… concerned."

"About?"

He raised his eyebrows. "The uhm, when we… m'm. You know."

We had been energetic and _spirited_ , and happy. "You didn't break me, Martin. Are _you_ okay?"

"Uhm, yes." He pulled me closer. "Love you."

I kissed his cheek. "I know."

He gazed at me in the dimness. "Thank you," he whispered.

"For?"

"Everything."

I squeezed him. That said a lot. If Martin hadn't taken the GP job in Portwenn, where would I be right now? An unrealized reality that would be. Gosh! I might even be married to Danny! I shuddered with disgust. Ick.

"Are you cold?" Martin asked then he pulled the sheet up higher and held me closer.

"A little. Thanks."

We were so different, but also so much alike. Dr. Timoney helped us to see that. We were both needy in our own ways, and that was because we were insecure; afraid really. Afraid to hurt one another to the point that we didn't talk, not even to say what we ought to say. I closed my eyes, and thought about kismet. Danny liked that idea, but he was wrong, I think, at least about him and me. Past history that was.

Well, as for kismet, maybe Martin and me just got lucky. But then again we were on the same plane flight down to Newquay, seated across from each other. I sighed. Maybe it _was_ fate. Even not liking each other at the first, but there was something… _something_ that drew us together. And besides, I couldn't get him out of my mind.

Oh, but Martin is kind in his own way. Yeah, his ways can be a bit brusque, but he's well meaning. Always caring about his patients; _trying_ to get them to follow his instructions. And lately I've seen him actually trying to be nice to Morwenna. I think he needs a little more practice at some interpersonal skills, but at least he's trying.

Now, if he can only get his blood thing under control. The other day I got a tiny nick on my finger while slicing bread and when he saw it he absolutely fainted dead away. So, definitely unfinished business there. But he does carry on despite of it. I patted his shoulder in empathy. Good old Doc Martin carrying on.

Does love happen because Cupid shoots with his arrows? Or is it chemical? Social? Or maybe we are seeking for the _other_ to fill a void in us? Or… maybe it was just magic between the two of us. Or even kismet?

We lay together, my eyes closed in peace, with our arms around each other, and I thought of an old song.

 _When I close my eyes tonight, you will fill my mind. In the silent darkness, you'll be shining bright, when I close my eyes tonight._

"I love you Martin. My shining man," I whispered to him in the night.

 **Author's note:**

" **When I Close My Eyes Tonight" by Benny Andersson & Bjorn Ulvaeus 1985, sung by Gemini.**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 – Cat Fight

As I neared the church, I noticed that the front doors were propped open, which made sense because the weather had been unusually warm. Not only was air wafting from the open doorway, but also voices; _raised_ voices. I stopped in the middle of the sanctuary and could tell there was a loud discussion coming from the church office.

"No. No! NO! This will NEVER do!" I heard Mrs. Tishell yelling, practically screaming.

Rosie Edwards, the Curate, replied, "Well, in the Vicar's absence…"

"Yesss," Mrs. T sighed, "about that? You DO know that he's coming back? It's not like this is permanent… for you! Don't get too cozy, my dear."

"My dear?" Rosie started to say.

"YES! Oh he's coming back! And _soon_! And every little thing you have changed will go RIGHT BACK TO THE WAY IT WAS! And all your MODERN IDEAS? PHTTT! Tradition my girl!"

The Vicar had been gone for a while. He was off on a 'Spiritual Retreat,' or so the village called it, but everybody knew he went off fishin' and drinkin' – not necessarily in that order.

"Well, the _District Director_ sent _me_ here, while the man's gone!" Rosie answered, and louder this time. "And don't you think we ought to _try_ and get along?"

"Hmph. Along? Like fish and chips, that sort of thing?" Mrs. T asked.

The Curate chuckled. "No, no. More like Peter and Paul. Mrs. Tishell, _Sally_ , look, I know that you've been playing the organ for a long time…"

I didn't have to see them to know that they both must be red in the face. I knew how Mrs. T could get, plus I'd seen the Curate in upset action not long ago over Joe and Janice.

"Oh yes; a _long_ time. Longer than you have _even_ been acquainted with the faith!" Mrs. T spat back.

"What? I'll have you know I was raised in a very religious home!"

"Then _why_ are you _only_ a Curate? Hm? And not a Vicar?" Mrs. T challenged her statement. "Not quite up to the task, dearie?"

I heard the Curate take a deep breath, no doubt to scream back, so in the momentary silence I called out. "Hello? Anyone here?"

There was a longish pause, and the Curate popped out of her office. "Yes, I… I'm here." She looked angry and flustered.

"And me as well," Mrs. T added, popping her head out. "Oh hello MORWENNA!" She practically ran across the room and grabbed my hands. "I'm so very HAPPY for you and AL LARGE! Wonderful NEWS!"

I drew back from her sweaty grasp. "You don't _have_ to yell. I'm standing right here…. and I'm not deaf."

Sally stood up straighter, and forced her hands to her sides, but her face was still flushed and her eyes were practically jumping out of their sockets. She and I hadn't really gotten along since she fired me after a half day's work in the chemist shop.

Behind her, the Curate rolled her eyes, and then she forced a smile as she walked over to me. She practically elbowed Mrs. T aside, who tried to nudge her right back.

Ever seen two broody chickens fight? That's just what they reminded me of. Clearly a turf war was in progress. I'd heard these two were at odds, but now I saw the truth.

"So, Miss Newcross, to what do I have the honour of helping you with today?" the Curate asked, talking my right hand in both of hers. "And your _happy_ day is coming up! Soon!"

I didn't want to talk with Mrs. T standing right there. "Uhm, maybe we ought to go into your office?"

Mrs. T shook her head, turned on her heel, and stormed away. She stomped to the organ, sat down, turned it on, and began to play a mournful sounding piece, swaying back and forth on the stool like there as a stiff wind blowing.

The Curate gave me a smile. "Ah, yes; right. Come with me."

I followed her into her office, and the Curate closed the door with a slam, although it didn't cut out a lot of sound. She perched on the edge of her desk and peered at me. "Now… how can I?"

"I've heard from my mum. She's coming."

The music was louder now; a lot.

Rosie yelled, "What?"

"My MUM! She's coming…"

The organ grew louder and louder; the notes played faster and faster. Then the really loud pipes gave out a solid howl – a wall of sound that would have put a heavy metal band to shame.

The Curate's face clamped into a scowl, she grimaced, and her hands flew up in the air, and then flinging the door open, practically ran from her office. I wondered what was going to happen. The organ stopped, I heard a slight scuffle, muffled words, and then a loud slap (that well known sound of hand on cheek), followed by footsteps running out of the church.

The Curate came back to the office, straightened her stole and pawed at her mussed hair. She started to rub at large a red mark on her cheek. "Now," she tried to smile. "Where were we?"

"Oh my God. Mrs. T hit…"

She waggled her lower jaw. "You can see that there have been… ah, snags… _complications_." She tried to smile, but her mouth twitched. "Complications." Then her eyes started to leak tears. She snatched up a tissue. "Sorry… honk," she blew her nose. "My fault. Must be. _Always_ is," she muttered. "Always hard to get people to change, you know? If it's not the organist, it's the secretary, or the decorating committee, the choir master…" she shrugged, and like throwing a switch she cut off that line of discussion. Rosie waggled her head, binned the tissue and faced me. "Now, about your mum. She is coming, to the wedding."

I stood up and touched her burning cheek. "You need ice for that."

"Oh, I'm fine, really," she sighed. "But ow," she touched her face. "Bit… awkward."

I stood up and took her arm. "Come on then! Let's get some air. I need it and you do as well."

The Curate glanced around her cluttered office. "Oh, fine. Right." She took off her clerical stole, hung it up, and then locked her office behind her.

I led the poor woman out to Al's car. "Come on now. Get in. I think I need a drink. And you do as well." I opened the passenger door for her to get in. "Uhm, not that I'm drinking, with the…"

She recoiled. "Right. But oh no. I couldn't."

"What? Curates don't eat and drink? I won't _force_ you to have a cider. But at least we can go somewhere and have a quiet chat."

Rosie ducked her head. "Fine. Good. Right." She sighed again. "Maybe I need that."

I raised my eyebrows. "Great! Climb in and we'll go somewhere."

Rosie took a deep breath. "Just for a little while. I have things to do – but, later."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20 – Admission

I was rather surprised when I saw Morwenna come into the cafe with the Curate, Rosie Edwards. The place was rather out of the way - over by Bondieve - one of the reasons I liked to come here. It was outside of Wadebridge proper so it was quiet, at least when I ate here. I put my tea cup down and called out. "Morwenna?"

She turned when she heard her name. The girl smiled when she saw me, so I waved them over.

The two of them came to my table, so I said, "Sit down, won't you? Please? Join me."

"Oh no, we couldn't," said Morwenna, trying to catch my eye in a fidgety way.

Hm. Something was going on. "No, I insist, and I need a spot of company."

Sighing, Morwenna sat, but she had to touch the Curate's hand to get her to do the same. I waited until they had settled, then called the waiter over (a rather spotted boy who acted as if he'd rather be home playing video games than having to put on clean clothing, face people, and work).

Slowly the boy slouched over bearing two menus, a pitcher of water, and two glasses, still acting like he was doing us a favor by just breathing on us.

"There's sandwiches," the kid grunted. "Nothing fried cuz the fryer is packed up. But the rest?" he shrugged.

"Thank you," I responded then gave him an encouraging smile. "We'll order when we're ready."

Grunting, the kid left us.

The Curate seemed to be a little abashed to be seen out of church, so I tried to put her at ease. "Miss Edwards, so good to see you once more."

She ducked her head. "Dr. Ellingham, yes. Good for me to see _you_. Uhm, and, how are you?"

"I'm quite well thank you but _do_ call me Ruth." I mock shuddered. "Now that I'm living down in Cornwall my professional title can get in the way."

"Yes," the Curate replied. "I know all about that." She looked around the room. "You cannot imagine how my position can put people off." She peered around the tiny room. "This is… nice. Quaint."

Morwenna chortled. "That's as good as any word. Means old."

Miss Edwards nodded and heaved a deep sign. "And you can call me Rosie." She fanned herself and pulled at her neckline. "This dog collar can be a bit stifling, especially in this heat wave. It's good to be, oh…"

"Off duty?" I asked.

Rosie grinned. "Yes… now, about a sandwich. Hm. Crab maybe?"

"I was looking at the chicken salad," Morwenna said. "With fruit. No chips or crisps for me… oh, for a while." Her hazel eyes bored into me. "Have you ordered?"

"Just before you walked in."

Morwenna got a nod from Rosie, so she called to the waiter. He brightened considerably when a pretty young woman spoke to him. Clearly he was put off by my age, but he enthusiastically took an order from the lips of a pretty young lady. I noted that Morwenna was only having water to drink but Rosie had asked for coffee.

"Not drinking I see," I observed.

Morwenna ducked her head. "Uhm, no."

"Good for you. Alcohol is contra-indicated in pregnancy," I said to her quietly.

"Gawd! Who told you?" Morwenna hissed and her face flushed from her hair roots down to her neck.

"Your boyfriend."

She shook her head. "My God! Does _everybody_ know?"

I touched her hand. "No, my dear. Just those who care about you."

Rosie patted the girl's other hand. "I _have_ noticed there is quite a sense of community here about."

Morwenna shook her head. "Oh. Yeah, then that's all right, I suppose." She shook her head and changing the subject turned to Rosie. "You were rather dropped into it with the Rev Moore being away," I said.

"Yeah. Oh yeah." Rosie gulped at her water. "It wasn't… all that easy… getting a job. I'd resigned my last position to go… uhm…"

"To Australia," I prodded. She blurted it out in front of a whole church full of people.

She rolled her eyes. "Holiday. Yes. I… had been… that is I was…" she sighed. "Engaged. But…"

To spare her a lengthy expose, I said to her, "You went all that way for no good outcome."

"We were going to have a beach wedding." Rosie shook her head and I saw how her eyes had gone moist. "But sadly… no," she managed to say, then shook her head. "Water under the dam."

"Bridge, I think," Morwenna told her. "You poor thing."

Rosie inhaled noisily. "Oh yes. Gerald. Gerald works for BAE and got transferred to Adelaide. Systems analyst, electrical engineer by training. He's tall and rugged, blonde hair… uhm…" Her eyes went wide. "And a body to die for," she gasped. "Oh God in Heaven!" her voice fell. "You know I _still_ dream about him? I will admit though, that I might have seen the signs if I'd been looking. Why else would a man move halfway around the world? Hm?" She added a sad and long sigh. "What a _bloody_ cockup that was for us… for me."

"Perfectly natural to feel these sorts of things," I told her, "after a breakup."

"But… but… he let me fly ALL THE BLOODY way down there! Sell my flat and most of possessions! I had the cutest little car too; a red Mini," she sniffed. "Oh Lord I loved to tear around in that thing. Only at night of course, when… well, when no one could see it was a lady in a dog collar driving!" she giggled then stopped herself with a will. "But that was _then_ , and this is _now_ , and I _have_ to make the best of things, right?"

"Sure," Morwenna told her, then put her arm around the woman's shoulders. "It'll get better."

Rosie smiled. "Buck up, dad always used to say. But why oh why did Gerald let me come down to Oz and _then_ tell me? That uhm… it was… _we_ were… _over_?"

I shrugged. "He didn't know how to."

"Yes, that's it," Rosie replied. "It was like a cancer diagnosis, you know? Didn't know how to face it. Not that _I_ have cancer, but… it's like that. But good _God_ he _could_ have called me and just spit it out, or even sent an _Email_!" She slammed her hand down on the table with a loud splat. "Bloody coward he was."

Morwenna and I exchanged eye signals. "So, here you are now. In a new job, and a new place," Morwenna told her. "A new start, right? About Mrs. Tishell… well, she can be a bit…"

"Difficult," I said. "What with all that's happened."

Rosie nodded. "Yes, I know. I heard about that. I'll make peace with her tomorrow." She smiled at me and Morwenna. "But here I am… now… and making new friends," she nodded to me and Morwenna. "Still no boyfriend, though."

The waiter brought our food right about then so the conversation was ended for quite a while; mercifully.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 – Something New

Joe was hanging about the pub once more with his usual hangdog look. I took deep breath and asked him (I didn't want to, but I did anyway; just to be friendly), "Joe, what's eating you?"

Joe shook his head slowly. "Oh… not that much." Then he sighed, his face screwed up.

I was trying to restock and the afternoon was getting late, but I stopped what I was doing to actually look at him. "I won't repeat it, but level with me."

"You don't want to hear about my troubles."

"Well, we all have 'em sometimes." I rubbed a dull spot on the bar top. "But…"

"Right now I'm thinkin' you're the luckiest man in world, Al Large."

"Hm? Oh, I'm okay."

"No, I mean it. You got a girl and gettin' married soon."

"Two weeks," I winced.

"Gonna have a baby."

"Who told _you_?"

"Your dad."

"I asked him… to keep it _quiet_." Thanks dad!

Joe smiled. "Good news though, right?"

"Right." Good news. But what do I know about being a father? There were a million things to be done, and jawing with Joe was not one of them. I checked my watch and saw it was past four. I'd better get moving.

Joe punched me in the arm. "You'll do fine. I never had that chance - fatherhood. Me and Maggs… well, nothin' happened in that department. Babies, I mean. Maggie wanted 'em and me as well." His face drooped. "And with Janice…"

I patted his arm for we all knew what had happened. Poor Joe, and poor Janice as well. "Somebody will come along."

Joe sipped at his glass of water. I'd offered him a pint but he'd refused, saying, 'I'm on duty, Al.' He cleared his throat. "Maybe. But Al, nothing much ever happens down here. It's too quiet. Boring, really. Same old people. Same old... stuff. I wish something new would happen."

Just then I heard a car stop outside, car doors opened and closed, and then hard-soled footsteps came to the door. "Hello?" a bright voice called out. Her accent sounded like Midlands, might be Brummie.

A woman was standing in the pub doorway. Forty-ish, with a bright head of blonde hair. She pushed her hair back, which she wore long. Her jeans fit her well, and her bright yellow blouse set off her blue eyes. A pretty woman, so I had to look. The longer I looked at her, the more I lowered her age. Thirty-five maybe? Thirty-three?

"Sorry to interrupt," the woman said. "I'm traveling with my daughter. May we use the washroom?"

I pointed. "Through that door."

The woman turned her head. "Come inside, Molly."

A little girl stepped inside. She was, oh, I don't know; maybe ten, or eleven. Sort of a smaller version of her mum. She wore jeans and a t-shirt, with a Batman symbol across it. Typical kid.

Joe had turned on his seat. "Hello, ma'am," he said self-importantly.

"Hi," the lady answered. "Come on Molly. Loo."

I watched as Joe tracked the woman and her little girl as they went through the pub and out the door in the back.

"See?" Joe pointed after they'd left the room. "Everybody's got kids; 'cept for me. And my brother. He never even got married." Joe's eyes got a faraway look. "But I _was_ married, once upon a time," he added sadly. He went back to staring into his glass.

Having nothing to add, I got back to work. A few minutes later the lady came out.

She asked. "Excuse me. Can we get a meal here? Anything really. It's been a long day."

"Uhm, the cook's not here but I could rustle up sandwiches. Ham and cheese? Crisps? Fresh fruit we have."

"Oh. That would be good. We got stuck in the most horrible jam up on the motorway. And then near here were sheep all _over_ the road."

That made Joe wake up. "That'll be out by Jimmy Barrow's place, I'm thinkin'," he said.

"I… don't know," she replied.

"Past the quarry?" I asked

"Yes, it was," the woman said.

Joe jumped to his feet. "Gah! I _told_ Jimmy a hundred times to keep 'em penned up." He hitched his equipment belt higher and then brightened. "I'm the local _constable_. PC Joseph Penhale."

The woman answered, "I'm Clair Davey." She wrapped her arm around the girl. "And this is Molly."

Joe squatted down low and stuck out his hand to Molly. "Call me Joe."

The little girl shook his hand gravely. "You're a police constable."

"Yes. Badge number 3021," Joe said, tapping his chest. "And _anything_ you need, you just _call_ _Joe Penhale_ and I'll be _right_ there," he said to her.

"Just like my Daddy," she said softly. "But he's a fireman."

"Ah," Joe answered, but I could see that he turned his head a fraction to look at Clarisse's ring finger which was bare. "Fireman and policemen are a _lot_ alike." He stood up and addressed the mother. "Maybe."

I swear I saw Joe blush and so did Clair. Clair suddenly seemed not to know what to do with her hands. She almost stuck out her hand to take Joe's outstretched one, but instead folded her arms. I could feel the electricity between them. Nothing and no one new, Joe had said? Hm. Perhaps he was wrong.

"Rescue services, are… kind of… similar," Clair stuttered. "A little maybe."

I rubbed my hands together. "Sandwiches, then?" I said to break the obvious tension.

"Yes, two please. With the fruit," Clair nodded.

Molly tugged on her mum's hand. "Can I have crisps instead? And orange squash?"

Her mother smiled. "Well, okay. Water for me, though."

I smiled. "Give me a couple minutes, and I'll have the sandwiches ready." I went into the kitchen and got busy. When I had the plates ready, I put their food and drink on a tray and took it out.

The Davey's were seated in a booth and Joe was sitting across from them, and making them laugh, telling a story about Jimmy and his sheep. "And then the silly things headed right South on the Coastal Path! Silly buggers musta decided to go on holiday down to Newquay!" he laughed at his own joke.

Clair chuckled. "Country stories. I like them." She sighed. "A big change from Birmingham, right Molly?"

Joe's eyes widened. "Oh, that's a big city."

"Yes. But down here the air is clean. I think we might like living here."

"Oh?" Joe brightened even more. "You… mentioned you were traveling."

"Yes," Clair said. "And I have an interview at your school. Seems your school is looking for a new Head Teacher."

I stood there holding the tray aloft and tried not to drop it. "And here's your lunch," I said into the sudden vacuum.

Joe jumped up, grinning, but he gave me a quick glance that could have meant almost anything. "You enjoy your meal then," he told them. "And I'll be off to have a little _chat_ with Jimmy Barrow about his _wayward_ sheep." He half-saluted and turned on his heel. Joe left the bar, walking in his purposeful way, as the Davey ladies tucked into their food.

Clair said, "Your constable… he… seems nice."

Oh lord, I thought. Was she actually attracted to Joe? "Joe is…"

"Funny," Molly giggled. "He made me laugh."

I gulped. "Yeah. He is that. Funny," I answered and then got back behind the bar.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22 – Responsible

Louisa was strapping James into the buggy for the trip to play-school, when she reminded me of a commitment I had been forced to make. "Tonight? Remember?"

I groaned inside for I did remember. "Yes." This was going to be horrid. No, more awkward perhaps.

"Now I know that you can't always control these things, but I hope that you don't have any house calls."

" _Louisa_ , when I get a call… you know that I must, MUST, respond."

She nodded. "Right." She completed rigging the buggy, then came to me and kissed my cheek. "I did say hope."

"Uhm, yes. Ahem. We'll see, won't we?"

She patted my shoulders and peered up at me, with shining eyes. "I told them to come to the house at half-six."

"Yes," I sighed ruefully.

Louisa looked at with concern. "We discussed this last week and you _did_ agree."

"I know."

She turned away. "They can both benefit, you know. You Martin Ellingham are the one to help them."

"I'm a doctor, not a…"

"You are also a teacher, husband. You can do this. If you taught specialist registrars at your fancy London hospital, you can teach them."

I closed my eyes, thinking I'd rather be dealing with medical professionals then my receptionist and her barman fiancé. "Fine," I sighed, but I did not want to responsible for this particular thing.

The day went by apace with the usual dose of time-wasters as well as _actual_ medical problems, such as hammertoe, diabetes, arrhythmia, earache, bellyache, and lurky. By the time the office was closed I was tired, and grumpy. Morwenna gave me a cheery goodbye when she left at 5 PM, so time was short after that to make our supper and get James fed.

Louisa cleared the table of our dinner, while James was finishing, slurping spaghetti into his mouth and smearing red sauce across his plate. Why must children eat with their hands? I almost snapped at our child, but I restrained myself. "Here, James," I said gently. "Try using the fork again."

James picked up his fork, stuck it into the pile of pasta on his plate and began to twirl the handle.

Louisa told him, "Good boy!"

James smiled under her beaming praise, then he lifted the fork and stuck a ball of pasta about the size of a cricket ball into his mouth, or tried to. As he chewed, partially masticated fragments fell back onto his plate in a gooey and gloppy stream.

I felt my nose turning up, but Louisa sat down to watch the display. "Well done James! Now you're getting the hang of it."

James laughed, spraying red sauce down his face, across the table, and onto his mother, just missing my sleeve by a centimeter. Oh well. Parenthood. Have a _child_ they said. Get _married_ they said. It'll be _fun_ they said. Not that anyone actually said that to me.

Perhaps fun was not quite the proper word. Maybe responsible might be a better one. So, being responsible, I said, "I'll clean him up."

Louisa looked down at her blouse which was streaked with blobs of sauce and noodles. "Only food. I can think of a lot worse things," she observed.

"Right," I replied, for I too knew of any number of bodily fluids which were far more noxious than red sauce. I got James cleaned up somewhat, while Louisa went up to change into a clean top.

Using a damp towel, I cleaned our boy, then got him out of his chair. I cleared the table and cleaned it, and watched as he went to his toy box and pulled out dumper trucks, blocks, a fire engine, and his toy dinosaurs. He sat down cross-legged, constructed a rough block square, put the toy dinosaurs inside, and then proceeded to play 'zoo.' This was something that he and Louisa did often, making various shapes, and playing games with the toys. He chuckled as he transferred each plastic animal from the 'corral' into a dumper and then rolled them across the room to a spot by the telly. He repeated the back and forth journeys until the toys had all been moved, and then he went back and methodically moved the blocks to the new location.

I watched as he once again built block walls and set the dinos in place. "Daddy? My Portwenn zoo. I moved it," he declared.

I turned to face him. "Where was the zoo before?"

"Over dere," he pointed across the room, then began to 'race' the dinos with both hands around and around on the floor.

"James you know that dinosaurs died a low time ago."

He nodded. "I know. But I mean a… a… toy zoo. You know."

I hung up the towel, took off the apron, and crouched down by my son. "Hm. A toy zoo."

"And the an'mals can live here. So they don't get all… uhm… lonely."

I plucked the toy T-rex out of the dumper and turned it in my hands.

"That's the daddy, daddy."

"The father of the others?" I asked.

James nodded vigorously. He added, "Yep. Cause he's tall like my daddy." Then he hugged my arm. "Love you."

I tipped my head and kissed his hair. "And I love you."

James smiled. "I know. Love mummy too. And Buddy."

"James, we love each other, you, me, and mummy. People feel love. But animals don't… actually… they _don't_ feel love… like people do. They can't. They're not made that way." I stopped when his face got sad.

He wagged his head side to side. "Buddy loves me, daddy, but he loves you bestest." He smiled. "I know."

"How can you tell, James?"

His little shoulders shrugged. "I know," he said seriously. "He does! The way he runs to you when you come into the room."

Buddy had been quite a pain in the rear lately, bringing any sort of junk into our home. James though it wonderful, but considering that stupid dog put _everything_ in his mouth, I shuddered at the myriad of unseen pathogens he hauled inside.

James was nodding. "Buddy's happy, daddy."

I tried to listen to James, and really think about what he was saying. Perhaps the dog _was_ attached to me – God knows why. Was what the animal felt the same thing I felt when I saw Louisa? A mystery.

Just then there was a hard rap on the kitchen door, so I got up, dusted my trousers, and walked to the door. Louisa was just coming down the stair and into the front room.

She gave me a look when she turned the corner. "Ready for them?" she asked.

"I suppose," I mumbled, as I opened the door. Al and Morwenna stood there, a bit self-consciously.

"Hi Doc!" my receptionist said.

"Uhm, Doc," Al muttered. "Good of you to…"

Buddy zoomed around them, leapt inside, and standing on hind legs jumped onto my trousers, getting mud all over my shins. "Gawd! _Stupid_ dog! Louisa, get this… filthy…" I yelled as I tried to back away. But the dog kept coming at me.

James ran over and tackled Buddy, spreading filth from the dog's coat onto his shirt and jeans.

Louisa and I just looked at one other, while James rolled over and over, tickling Buddy, the two of them making an awful mess on the lino, while our son giggled and the dog barked.

Al bent down and rubbed the dog's head. "Awful good of you to give Buddy a home. Little guy was lost after Joan died. Joe tried to, you know."

I had the kitchen roll in hand and taking handfuls of towels was wiping at the mess on my trouser legs. "Gawd, I ha…"

"But good of you to responsible for him," Al added.

"Thanks Al," Louisa replied. "We're glad to have him."

I binned the soiled towels and washed my hands with plenty of hot water and soap. "Yeah, it's a thrill," I gibed. "Laugh a minute."

Our guests and Louisa laughed, but I wondered if being responsible for a dog was that much different from being responsible for a child? Hm. I looked down at my ruined trousers. "I'll go change these."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23 – The Moves

I watched as Martin began his instructions. He had a small white board in hand and drew a quick diagram with quick strokes. Then he drew numbers on the sketch and proudly displayed it. It was big blobs and little blobs, with precisely drawn numbers and letters. He looked down at his two pupils perched on our sofa, and neither one looked very happy, as he displayed the diagram.

James was in reception pushing a toy train around the room, perfectly happy to be on his own for a little while.

Meanwhile, our front room had become a classroom.

Al looked white as a sheet, but Morwenna's face was fixed in an awkward smile.

Martin said, "Right. These are the basic moves. I trust that you may be somewhat familiar with the basics, however, I remind you that this is not any of that wild thrashing that goes on nowadays. The letter M marks the man, and the W…"

"The woman?" Morwenna blurted out perkily.

Martin recoiled. "Yes… now…" He looked over at me, seemingly at a loss because of her interruption.

I smiled at my husband encouragingly. "Perhaps this would be easier if we – you and I – showed them?"

"But, that is _why_ I drew the _diagram_ ," he mumbled.

"I mean, it might be more straightforward if we used ourselves as a visual aid?" I went to Martin and laid my hand on his shoulder.

He sighed, but I took his hand and turned him around, so we faced one another. "Now," I started to say.

He mumbled, "Louisa? I thought that you wanted me to demonstrate?"

"I do. So, go on then," I whispered. I grinned at Al and Morwenna. "Why don't you two stand up and do what we're doing?"

"Right," Martin was saying. "Al, take her right hand in your left. Uhm, put your right hand on her waist. No, no! Not that low! Raise your hand..." Then he sighed. "The woman puts her arm on the man's right shoulder. Around the side, not over the top. And don't crush her against you like that, Al! Give the woman room to move, for Heaven's sake! You're not going to _drag_ her about holding her like that. You _must_ guide her. You are in control; she you're willing partner."

Morwenna giggled but pushed Al away a few inches.

Martin looked down at me, and I saw a bead of sweat on his forehead. "You're doing fine," I told him.

Air hissed from his nose. "Shall we begin?"

"Yes," I told him.

Martin addressed our guests. "Now we're not doing this with music yet for that will confuse you. Al, you step forward with your left foot, and at the same time, Morwenna you take a step backward with your right. Then Al, you move your right foot forwards, but at a 45 degree angle. Morwenna you do the same, only a mirror movement. That is your right is his left and vice versa."

They awkwardly tried to follow his directions.

He cleared his throat. "Then the man steps sideways with his left foot until it is flat on the floor next to his right. Got it?"

Al and Morwenna looked down at their feet afraid to move another inch.

"Then," Martin went on, "Al, you take a step backwards with your right foot. Follow with your left, but backwards to where it was, also at a 45 degree angle. Then your right foot moves sideways to rest next to your left foot." He nodded. "That's the _basic_ waltz box step. You can make any variety of minor turns to move about the room, otherwise you'll be stuck only staying in one spot."

Morwenna and Al tried gamely to follow his instructions but it looked like a horse who'd been into the beer. She giggled, but Al swore.

Martin let air out of his nose slowly. "It's not _that_ difficult! Basic waltz step – The Box. And let your shoulders move freely while you hold your partner, but we'll get the steps down first."

"Perhaps we ought to show them?" I asked.

"Couldn't hurt," he muttered. So, he and I waltzed slowly around our guests, for a few turns. We stopped, and Martin said, "perhaps it might be better if I danced with Morwenna, and Louisa… Al."

They self-consciously dropped their hands.

"Come on Al," Morwenna urged him. "Give it a go. Show Louisa what you've got!"

Al sheepishly took my right hand in his left and I put my left around his right arm. Martin took Morwenna in his arms, and I must admit I felt a brief twinge of jealously to see how he held her in his control.

"Now… Morwenna, let's dance," he said to her. "Slowly. Smoothly. Follow the man's lead."

She laughed, but cut it short when Martin gave her a dark look. "Right, Doc."

Martin started to dance and in a very few seconds, Morwenna caught on.

"Mor!" Al exclaimed. "You're dancing!"

They were dancing, for Martin was in control. He smoothly waltzed her around the room and back to the starting place. "Fine. All good."

Al dropped his right hand then scratched his face. "Well, if she can do it, I'd better get up to speed. Louisa? Shall we?"

It turned out that after Al got the steps down he was a good and gentle dancer. I could see what Morwenna saw in him, with his warm hands and lanky build, and he had a boyish grin as he got better.

Morwenna clapped her hands. "Oh, Al that's wonderful!"

He turned his head to smile at her, then lost a step, almost tripping me; just missing falling on me by an inch. But he came out of the stumble and got right back into step.

I saw Martin nodding his approval. "Good. Now you dance with Morwenna, Al."

I took Martin's arm and watched as Morwenna took Al's hands as they began to dance. It was jerky at first, but they smoothed out into a beautiful waltz.

Martin almost smiled as his pupils moved about the room.

I whispered to him, "I knew you could do it."

He sighed. "Stands to reason, as you pointed out, that they needed to learn to dance for their wedding."

I patted his back. "I knew that you were talented, Martin, but dance master as well?"

"Hardly," he muttered. "I learnt in school."

After an hour he'd moved them into a variation on the waltz, as well as doing it faster and slower, even with music.

It was a magical hour, as the former vascular surgeon turned GP once more showed the depth of his knowledge and caring.

Martin let them go home, and admonished them to practice, while I started the bedtime routine with James. I heard Martin downstairs mumbling over the dog, then he came upstairs and read James his bedtime books.

After James was gently snoring across the hall, we prepared for bed, and I was very full of praise for his help tonight.

"It was simple," he said, as he flipped through his journal.

"Not simple; not at all. You never cease to amaze me, Martin."

"I hope it, _I_ , was useful. Those two… uhm, young people… they're so…"

"Young?"

I put his journal down and turned off his reading lamp. "Raw."

"Be that as it may, Martin, they are adults – young adults. And they will be parents soon enough."

He nodded. "Hard enough – to be parents, though."

"As well as a married couple."

"I hope they know what they're in for," he grunted.

I patted his leg. "Not all hearts and flowers, is it?"

"No."

I turned off my light, rolled onto my side to face him, and nuzzled into his warm body. "You _must_ guide her," I said huskily.

"What?"

" _You are in control; she you're willing partner,_ " I repeated from the dance lesson.

He turned his head. "Oh?"

I kissed his mouth. "Yes, Martin."

His eyes widened in the dimness. "I see," he answered.

I kissed him again.

"Ah," he mumbled, "Shall we…?"

I pulled him closer. "Yes Martin. Let's dance, shall we?" He had the moves...


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24 – You and me

I saw Morwenna looking at her wedding dress hanging in the wardrobe, fingering the material through the polythene bag. "Pretty soon," I said.

She turned her head and I saw she was grimacing.

"Mor'? What's the matter?"

She wiped at a wet eye. "Oh… nothing."

I took her in my arms. "It's okay. Now, tell your boyfriend what is going in that pretty head of yours?"

She pulled me close and I felt her little baby bump press against me. "Oh, Al, I'm just… you _know_."

Hormonal? Engaged? Pregnant? All three. "No, I don't know much of anything, other than that you and me, well, we're getting married in less than two weeks. And then we'll have the rest of our lives together."

She looked at me warily. "About that."

Huh? She looked worried, so I asked, "Cold feet? Because if it's cold feet, I got 'em as well."

She nodded. "Well that makes two of us," she sighed. "Nervous, are you?"

"And happy, looking ahead. You and me and our baby." I gently put my hand on her belly. "Hard to believe, ain't it? A baby. Our baby. A bloody miracle."

"I think ineffective contraception had something to do with it, plus a lot of love." She looked down at my hand and draped her hand across mine. "But what if we muck it up? I mean, look at me and my folks. Not exactly close, the three of us. And you and your dad? Phew."

"Right. We have had our issues; but agreed," I said. Like if dad was really my dad? The birth certificate proved it, or at least his name was there in the box marked 'Father'. But Bert was the man who raised me, so, he _was_ my dad, and my only parent, after mum died when I was little. "We'll just have to figure things out; marriage and parenthood. All at once, I guess."

"Al, what do we know about raising a baby? I been a child-minder off and on and the little things can be hellions. Crying to beat the band, making muck in their nappies, drooling all over, and after reading that pregnancy book Louisa bought for me, I'm scared to death! Stretch marks? Labor? Droopy baps? Gawd."

I felt her shaking so I pulled her closer. "I'm certain my dad wasn't exactly _prepared_ , but he didn't kill me, I mean, if he didn't mess me up, then the two of us will be just fine. You did say that you and your mum are…"

"Talking."

"Then that's good."

She rubbed my back and looked up at me with a grin. "Now if you'd only learned to put your boxers into the laundry hamper…" she giggled, and then kissed my cheek. "Perhaps you might be trainable? Oh, and those smelly socks as well. Plus putting the seat down."

I nodded. "I'll work on it. And baby raising can't be that much harder."

Morwenna punched my arm. "Al Large it will be a _lot_ harder than tossing smelly socks into the hamper!"

I laughed. "But I just _might_ be trainable? What do you think?"

She hugged me. "Oh, yes, Al Large; trainable I think. Now your friend Colin? He might be ready to go straight out of the carton. Perfect to a T."

Colin, my dating site persona. "Yeah, but him being all fancy would he stick around? I doubt very much that the bustling metropolis of Portwenn would suit _him_ long term."

She chuckled. "You have a point. And his lady friend Nefertari might be a little hard to handle as well. She might be more interested in a pub crawl every night then staying at home and darning your socks."

"Yeah." Nefertari was Morwenna's on-line identity. "But she was a smart one, and I suspect she might be able to darn a sock or two."

That made her laugh. We each had tried online dating so in that way 'Colin' had met 'Nefertari.' Our first date was a disaster, but the second one went… well a lot smoother. One thing led to another and now we were engaged and parents-to-be. "Or maybe the two of them could just go to the store and buy new stockings?" she tittered.

I nodded, as I held her close. "If we're scared at least we're scared together. Right?"

Her lips moved against my neck, leaving a soft kiss. "You and me and baby makes three," she muttered.

"Soon enough, my girl."

She let me go, and turned to look at the wedding dress. "I can't believe it – the dress."

Louisa had fronted a lot of the cost I knew, for I found the bill in the bottom of the storage bag. "Awfully nice of Louisa… ahem… to help out."

Morwenna smiled. "Even Ruth Ellingham."

"And the Doc giving us dancing lessons? Bloody marvelous."

Morwenna shook her head. "The Doc is a man of many talents."

I watched as Morwenna brightened. "You know, the other morning Louisa was running late to her class, and the Doc was giving her guff about not finishing her breakfast. She told him she wasn't feeling well, and when I saw her go out the door, I swear she looked peaked."

"Peaked?"

"Pale, sort of."

I shrugged. "What are you saying?"

Morwenna, froze, then put her hand on her belly and started at it. Her eyes had gone big as saucers.

"Mor'? What's wrong?"

She snapped the fingers of her other hand and motioned to me. "Come here!"

"What?"

"Give me your hand!"

I did so, and she pressed it against her belly.

"Feel that?" she asked.

"Uhm…"

"Sh. Just _feel_."

I held my hand still, and maybe I felt, _something_. "What is that?"

"I think it's… oh Al, our baby's moving. Feel it?"

Whatever it was, it was gone. To make her happy I told her, "Sure."

She smiled, looking down as she put both her hands down there. "Okay in there?" she asked. "Swimming around like. Moving around."

If I wasn't nervous before I sure as _hell_ was nervous _now_. Moving… _movement_.

Morwenna was all smiles as she stood there holding herself. "It's…"

Morwenna rested her head against my shoulder. "Fantastic."

 **Author's note:**

 **I want to thank all my readers for being faithful to this mechanical engineer, who continues to believe that he can write... and that you continue to read the words he sets down.**


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25 - Advice

Morwenna opened my surgery door and looked in at me, as I was looking over the schedule for tomorrow. "Yes?" I asked.

"Sorry Doc, but you've got one last patient."

I looked at my watch and it was nearly 5. "Almost closed."

She ducked her head, grimaced, and held up her index finger. "Just one more?"

I sighed, but I snapped, "Fine. Send them in."

Morwenna opened the door and stepped aside, revealing Al Large, who nodded at me, saying, "Doc."

"Come in then," I moaned.

Al brushed past his fiancee with a grim look, then watched as she closed the door behind him.

I indicated he should sit in my visitor chair, which he did.

"Now what's the problem?"

He scratched his neck nervously. "I been wanting... uhm, to... ask about..."

"Is this a medical problem?" I must have asked harshly for his face fell.

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

He looked down at his feet. "I... well, with weddin' and all..." he stopped to sigh, "I haven't been able to sleep... uhm, much."

"Just how much sleep have you been getting, on average?" He did look tired, based on his red-rimmed eyes.

"I dunnoh. Couple of hours, I suppose." He sighed. "Maybe things... well, you know how things can be."

"No, I don't. Al, what are you nattering on about?"

He looked at me with a woebegone expression, his eyes squinting, as he does often. Finally he sighed. "Women, Doc."

"Oh," I grunted.

Al shrugged. "I mean, I love Morwenna, I really do," his voice fell to a whisper, "but, what if I muck it up?"

"What in particular might you muck up?" This was not a medical problem.

"What if some day down the road she looks at me over breakfast and says we made a mistake, and that we should separate? What then, Doc?"

I grimaced, sensing he was asking for advice, or counseling, or God knows what.

"Maybe things... well, you know how things can be," he said softly.

I groaned inside. "And just why are you asking me?" I knew the answer.

"You and Louisa; you two haven't, I mean, didn't exactly... not all hearts and flowers, all the time, right?"

"If you mean that the relationship between me and Louisa and her with me hasn't always been smooth sailing?"

Al nodded. "Yeah, like that."

I leaned back in my chair. What could I tell him? That she took a dislike to me on the plane, in the first few minutes I was aware of her? For that was true. That we then had a battle of wills? That we had dated, but that lead up to a horrid bustup? Finally, in desperation, I had forced out enough words to ask her to marry? But she said yes, thank God. But our first attempt at a wedding did fail.

Al was waiting for my response.

Then she left, but came back pregnant with James Henry. When I saw her face upon her return she was everything I had hoped for. Louisa was back... and then I saw her gravid belly.

I told him, "You cannot assume that things will be completely calm., Al." Calm; that's a loaded word. "And a child, ahem, adds complexity to things."

"Complexity. A good word," he replied.

I looked at the man and wondered what I could, or should say.

Al shrugged. "I know some say I been chasing... your receptionists." He grinned wickedly. "Not that I ever could get that close to Elaine, and Pauline wanted me a lot less than I wanted her." He shook his head. "Last I heard she was in Bristol studying to ne a nurse. So, you musta rubbed off on her, Doc."

Elaine was a horrible receptionist, but at least Pauline had been trainable; she did all the phlebotomy work when she was here.

"And I'm thinkin' Morwenna has been doin' pretty well, considering the couple a pay rises. But..."

Stalling for time, I answered, "But?"

He shook his head. "Look at me, Doc. What have I got? No education, beyond the basics, I know a lot about plumbing, and general repair, a bit of computer stuff, but I can run a pub. Just dont ask me to run a bed and breakfast or a restaurant."

Perhaps I could advise him. "Why do you assume that there is nothing which you are good at? I, as you know, was once a surgeon, and now I am not. I can't say that I ever imagined that I would end up here."

"But you... you are the best, Doc! When I had that sleeping sickness..."

I held up my hand. "That is my point, Al. I have many skills which I could turn towards... other... medical endeavours. Just not... uhm..."

"Right, sugery."

I stood up. "That is my point. Now, buck up. Don't fall victim to your fears. There is always some amount of self-doubt in each of us. Now, I can do a medical exam on you, however, it is very possible that your sleep disturbances can be cared for by eliminating caffeinated drinks late in the day, eat normally - that is healthily - and cut back on the alcohol. Do you think you can do these things?"

Al nodded. "I can try."

"Now, as for fears of inadequacy with your partner, I suggest that you recall that you and my receptionist are a romantic couple. Early romantic love, however, does not last, but is replaced by longer lasting things, such as companionship, friendship, warmth, and respect."

Al had developed a grin, which grew larger. "Sure Doc."

I went around my desk, held out my hand, which he took as I pulled him to his feet. "And one more thing, Al."

"Yeah, Doc."

I felt this was a slippery slope, but I pressed on anyway. "When things get difficult, or unsettling, and they will, sit down with her and talk it out."

He shook my hand firmly. "Thanks Doc, I appreciate it." He headed to the door.

"Oh Al?"

"Yeah, Doc?"

"Sometimes, when your wife requests - certain uhm, things - just agree. Odds are you might just enjoy it." I was thinking of Louisa asking about another child, but I hoped he wouldn't infer such; perhaps only about buying new furniture. "And apologize, even if it isn't your fault."

Al smiled. "I'll remember that."


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26 – Gossip

Louisa was sitting at the kitchen table, typing on her laptop. Funny to see her here most days. The Doc had gone out on a call – Mrs. Wiggins was laid up once more – and there were no patients hanging about for me to keep an eye on. So, I had gone to the kitchen for tea. I had time to kill until the Doc got back; if he got back by 5.

"We felt the baby move the other day," I told her.

She looked up and smiled. "That is a very… very… _special_ moment," she said softly. "Up 'til then it doesn't seem real does it? Having a baby?"

"Morning sickness and sore baps are real enough, though."

She winced. "Oh yeah. And the rest."

I dropped a decaf teabag into a mug, and poured hot water over it, watching the water turn reddish-brown. The tea was horrid stuff, but avoiding caffeine was a good idea at this stage.

Louisa sighed, pressed some keys on the PC, then stood up and hugged me around the shoulders. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired, achy, and fat." I pressed my hand against my dress, feeling my bump. "Getting bulgy." I saw Louisa peer down at my small belly, just visible.

"May I?" she asked.

"Go ahead." Why did people want to touch my belly? Especially women? Do they remember having their own children when they do it?

She put her hand on my waist, or at least where it used to be. Her hazel eyes smiled at me. "My goodness. A baby."

"Yeah," I muttered. "Goodness. Gee. Golly. Blimey. Fat."

She lowered her hand. "You _will_ get bigger."

I pulled the tea bag out of the mug and laid it on a saucer. "Not looking forward to that, and then there is the rest of it."

"Rest of it?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Louisa, I know that this," I pointed at my belly, "is biology, all natural, and so on, but… even so. I'm scared."

"You'll be fine," she said. "And you've got Al to help. I… well, you know, that… Martin and me… didn't exactly… get off to a _good_ start."

I watched as she wiped her eyes. "But you're together now."

She took a deep breath. "It's hard though."

"Oh?"

"Hard to change." She looked around, even though we were the only ones in the house, with James at play school. "Martin can be moody, and I… can as well," she whispered.

Moody? Well that's one word for it. "I know."

She looked at me shyly. "But lately we've been, uhm, closer."

"What's that mean? Louisa?" What is she saying?

"Martin and I have had our ups and downs, lately more up… and takin' these classes I'm understanding more about how children develop their minds; the way we learn to deal with the world and those around us." She bit her lip. "My parents were crap, and his were a lot worse. So, how did each of us learn to trust other people?" Next, she looked me straight in the eye. "That's been hard for me, and him. But you know what? When I see you and Al together; just the opposite. You are a team; a lovely couple, and the whole village must know that."

"Thanks for that," I answered. "But you and the Doc? Louisa, I think you're selling yourself short. I see the way he looks at you, with his eyes. And oh my gosh the way he cares for James? You'd need a team of horses to tear those two apart, and him from you, Louisa." I smiled at her, and she thanked me with her eyes.

"Maybe I'm just being hormonal," she muttered.

Time of the month. I didn't miss that, but it was replaced with the whole pregnancy thing. "Yeah."

She grinned. "About that closer stuff, don't you assume that Al won't be, uhm, _wanting_ you while you're carrying your baby. But you might know that."

I chuckled. "Tell me about it. Al can be moody, but lately he's been very touchy-feely, right?" Very romantic.

"Men," she and I said at the same time and then we laughed together.

"Well, there are _some_ compensations," she added. "To being around men." She hugged herself and rubbed her arms. "But they _can_ be tetchy, sometimes."

"And women can't? I gave Al what for the other night when he closed the pub late and then came bumbling into the house in the dark bumping into things. Woke me up, the git! And then I practically bit his head off."

Louisa nodded, her eyes dancing. "You have no idea the noise that Martin makes when he comes home late at night after a dreadful house call. He's not the most graceful of men, uhm, usually. I swear he can knock his head into almost anything… oh."

She stopped for she saw me grinning, as I imagined the Doc, bumping his head… on things, _ahem_.

We both got the giggles. I don't know what she was laughing about but I could imagine any sort of funny scenes.

"Gosh, I shouldn't tell tales out of school," she exclaimed, covering her mouth. "But, you know," she went on, "I ought to have been… _kinder_ to Martin – before."

"Well," I sighed, "none of us are saints, are we?"

Louisa shook her head. "But look at us, gossiping along like the old women do."

"Small village, right? What else have we to talk about?"

She sighed. "But all the same, Al treats you very well, and Martin and me," she smiled, "we're getting on."

I put my arm around her. "Louisa, when you came back from Spain, I could see bloody hard it was for you. And the Doc was in pain too."

She nodded. "Right."

"He was a right grumpy Gus all the while you were away."

"The usual," she muttered.

"No, he was _worse_ ; a lot. But at the same time, I could tell he was hurtin'."

She clutched me against her. "You're the lucky ones, you know. Starting out fresh. Martin and me, well, we had to start, and then stop, and then try again, so, so many times."

I swear she was crying a little, so I patted her back, telling her, "You're doing fine."

She chuckled. "Now you sound like Dr. Timoney."

"I been reading about relationships; couples, like."

"If it was only that easy; read a book and know _exactly_ what to do."

I tipped my head towards her laptop. "Like your studies?"

"Well, there also is practical experience to build up."

"Just like in a marriage?"

She leaned back to look at me. "Morwenna, you are wise beyond your years."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Louisa glanced at her watch. "I'd better go pick up James; told Martin I would."

I looked at my tea, now gone cold. "And I'd better be getting home. Fix dinner before Al has to help at the pub."

She smiled. "So domestic." She patted my shoulder. "I do envy you."

"You said that already."

She closed her laptop, took a cardi off the peg and put it on. "Can you lock up?"

I mock saluted. "Will do."

Louisa went out the door, and I wondered just what she meant by her _envy_ comment.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27 – In-Laws

I checked my watch, and winced at the time, for I was running late. "Blast! Morwenna will skin me!" I pressed harder on the accelerator and the road went by faster. Eventually I got to Bodmin Station and pulled into the car park, just as the train was slowing to a stop. "Better to be just on time then to be late." I stopped the car and climbed out just as the couches stopped. I went around the station to the platform and saw jack and Tara Newcross alight, carrying actual cases, rather than backpacks, but her dad held a large duffel and Tara carried a big handbag. "Figures," I muttered. "Wedding and all. More stuff."

I saw Morwenna's dad turn his head and when he saw me gave me a big smile, so I hurried over and stuck out my hand, which he shook warmly. I'd worried about this bit, since Mor' and I had talked about it a bit.

"I'll admit they scare me a little, especially after the last time," I told her. We were in bed, and this had been eating me, cuz they were due in the next day.

Mor' shook her head. "Scare you?"

"Right."

"So, mum and dad give you a fright?" she said. "Do _I_ scare you?" She chuckled as she ran a hand across my neck and down to my chest where she ran her fingers in a circle. "Glad to know, before our wedding."

I pushed her exciting hand away. "No, no. I… well, I suppose they're not crazy about me, or my dad, and then there's the fact I got you preggers."

She shook her head and put her hand back on my chest. "Al Large, you stop it. I didn't get myself pregnant for heaven's sake, and I love you! And mum and dad…" she shook her head. "They… just needed time to get used to things is all."

I sighed. "I suppose. So, what do I call them? Mister and Missus Newcross? Jack and Tara? Dad and mum?" They seemed sort of super-human to me, I suppose, going off on missions and all that, but I knew they'd ditched their daughter while they went globe trotting doing 'good works.'

"How about you start with the mister and misses, and see how that goes? I bet they'll want dad and mum soon enough. Me and your dad? He's just Bert, I guess. Always will be." She smiled as she snuggled close.

I rubbed my neck and thought it over. "Okay."

Mor' turned out her light, rolled back towards me, and said, "Give us a kiss."

I did so, but she had more… _wide-ranging_ … ideas beyond a peck on the lips. So here I was shaking her dad's hand the next afternoon and trying to not think that I was the man who'd shagged his daughter often enough, and well enough, it seemed, to give her a baby. And as for last night… we were both insatiable.

"Uhm, Mr. Newcross…" I started to say.

Her dad immediately threw his other arm around me, gave me a man hug, and said, "No, no, call me _Jack_ , or dad, if you prefer."

"Right, sure. Jack." Then I turned towards her mum. "Hello Mrs. Newcross."

She too hugged me and then after a moment's hesitation, kissed my cheek. "Call me Tara… or mum." She looked up at me for a moment, with a brief smile.

She seemed less friendly than Jack, but maybe it was from travel. Oh well, push on. "I'll get your cases." Their cases were new-looking roller bags, one large, and one medium, I got the handles before they could make a move. "My car is just around the corner."

I'd gotten my hands on a slightly newer car recently, a Vauxhall Corsa hatchback. With the little one coming we'd need room for a baby carrier plus a fold-up buggy and all that. The Corsa had fairly low mileage and the paint was in good shape, only needing some cleanup and then a good coat of wax, plus a full tune-up, most of which I'd done myself. Plugs and filters were easy but there was a cracked cooling hose that gave me fits, until I got the new one fitted.

I saw the look of approval in Jack and Tara's eyes. The Corsa was much better than the beat-up Toyota Tercel I had the last time they were in the village. I opened doors for them, and got the luggage into the back, while trying not to let her dad help. "No, no... Jack. Let me. You're my guests."

"Family, nearly," he corrected after he clambered into the back seat.

Tara forced a smile. "And how is Morwenna?" she asked from the front seat. She sighed. "I imagine… that her… uhm… well… she… must be." Her voice stopped but then she waved her hand over her abdomen.

I took the bull by the horns. "Yes, Morwenna is showing, a little, but not that you'd really _notice_. And her weddin' dress is smashing! You'll like it! It's quite beautiful, just like your daughter."

She blew air out of her nose. "I know that… things are… _different_ , from when Jack and I were young."

I bit my tongue for Morwenna had shared with me her mum's confession.

Jack stepped into the awkward moment. "It's just that people _do_ talk."

I peered into his eyes through the rear-view mirror. "Been thinking about that. My dad knows and the vicar, and the village doc and his wife. But it's all good. And you do know that Morwenna and I love one another and I was planning on asking her to marry anyway, and then when we… we found out… it kinda moved things along."

I saw her dad nod. "These things happen," he said. "Families come in all sorts, don't they?" he said half-grimly. "As long as you two young people love each other it will all come out right."

Tara reached over and patted my arm. "How's it feel with the wedding coming up?"

"Nerve wracking," I confessed. "Sorta scared stiff."

That made both of them laugh, as Jack commented, "Just like us, eh, Tara?" That made them both chuckle.

I knew at that moment that things would be alright with her mum and dad. "Good to know," I muttered. "Good to know." I guess they were human after all.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28 – Best Man

"So, anyway, as I was sayin'," I had to clear my throat, "I was thinkin' since I'm going to the wedding – best man and all – that maybe you could come as well." I was siting next to Clair Davey on one of the Platt benches. I'd seen here sitting there when I was on patrol, so I stopped to chat.

"Oh?" she answered. "Not like I know them at all."

"Well, you've met Al Large; he runs the pub."

"Right. But his fiancée?"

"That's Morwenna Newcross. She's the Doc's, sorry, that would be Dr. Martin Ellingham's receptionist. You haven't met the village GP yet, I suppose?"

Clair shook her head. "Been waiting to see about the job; before we register here for medical care."

"Ah. Right. But it's sorta of a village thing – a wedding, see? Everybody goes – most everybody." I sighed, for it was kind of obvious that she didn't want to come with me.

"It's not that I don't want to. But what if we're gone soon. No job?"

I smiled. "From what you said, the school Governors liked you."

"Mr. Penhale…"

"Now, now. Call me Joe."

"Alright, Joe, it's not about _liking_. The question is am I up to the job? And besides… oh you may as well know, that moving to Cornwall wasn't exactly part of the plan."

"Mrs. Davey, what was _the_ plan?"

She sat there looking at me while she rubbed the mark of a ring long worn and now gone around her finger. She looked down at her finger with an expression of disgust. "You can call me Clair, please. The divorce papers are filed and I'm just waiting for the final steps."

I nodded. "Clair, I been divorced as well and I know how hard it can be…" I stopped when I saw her eyes grow wet, so, she took out a tissue and wiped them.

"It's not me; I knew our marriage was broken for a long time. But as for Molly, well, her dad, will _always_ be her dad."

I nodded and started to touch her hand, but stopped. I looked down the beach and saw Molly playing at the water's edge. "My ex and I didn't have any kids," I told her. "Wanted 'em I suppose, but it didn't happen, and then when we broke up, well… _anyway_. We didn't have any little 'uns to worry about."

Clair patted my elbow. "Divorce… yeah, - birds of a feather – we know too much about it."

I nodded. "It was four years ago and I can recall it like it was yesterday. Mags, Maggie I mean - her name is Maggie – told me she wanted to split. So we did." I shook my head to stop myself from spilling my guts about my injuries which lead to a changed personality and behavior. My agoraphobia had receded, luckily, and the narcolepsy, but it was always in the back of my mind, crouching there like a tiger. "And… that was that."

Clair nodded. "I knew that James was tempted to be rover; to go back to the wild life he had before we met. But I thought that he'd love me _and_ Molly enough to leave all that behind." She sighed. "He did change for years and years, but then after the accident, he was different."

I perked my ears up "Your husband had an accident? On the job?"

"Yes. At work. A fire call came in, a bad one. And then a factory wall collapsed. He was barely scratched when it came down but two of the fellows on his squad got injured. Not too badly – but it shook him up. He started staying out late, and so forth."

"And _so forth_ ," I repeated. "Tough for you."

Clair tipped her head towards her daughter, who'd pulled her shoes and socks off and was wading up to her knees. "Worse for _her_. Molly thinks a lot of her dad. He's a heroic fireman saving people and all that. But she doesn't exactly get it how bloody dangerous his job is, but how a lot of what they do is pretty mundane. Waiting for the alarm to ring, right? Polishing the trucks." She nudged me. "Kinda like a policeman."

"Right. Portwenn is quiet, mostly."

"Chasing after sheep on the roadway?" she chuckled.

"More like getting after the farmer who won't keep his fences mended."

She stretched. "I do like it here. Peaceful. Not like Birmingham."

"I _do_ keep it that way."

She laughed. "I'm sure that you do."

I enjoyed looking at her as she laughed. "So, please, Clair, come with me to the wedding? It'll give you something to do next weekend," I asked.

Clair opened her mouth to answer me, just as Molly screamed.

000

"Is it bad, Doctor Ellingham?" Clair asked the Doc while she hugged Molly around the shoulders.

Molly was perched on the Doc's examination table, her injured and bare foot propped up while the Doc examined it.

Dr. Ellingham was sitting on a rollie stool, while he prodded the bottom of her foot with gloved hands. "No," the Doc grunted. "It appears to be part a broken fishhook." He stared at Molly. "You were wading."

"Yeah," she blubbered. "And then I hopped down off a rock and this thing got stuck in my foot!"

Clair winced. "Poor baby."

"On the Platt," the Doc harrumphed. "Beaches are _dangerous_. Cast-off fishhooks, monofilament line which can cut you, plus all sorts of manmade debris from the sea, not to mention _any_ of the bacteria present in seawater as well as harmful sea life!"

"Doc, she was wading," I protested. "She's a kid – having fun."

"What you gonna do for me?" Molly asked the Doc.

"I'll irrigate the wound, give you a local anesthetic at the injury site, and then remove the hook. Topical antibiotic will be prescribed for a week," the Doc pronounced.

"No stitches?" Clair asked.

"In penetrating wounds of the foot it is best to allow the wound to remain open, so that no harmful bacteria become trapped inside. But I will apply a light sterile dressing." He brought over a tray laden with instruments. He looked up at Clair. "Do I have your formal permission to treat your daughter?"

Clair nodded. "Of course."

"Fine," the Doc said. Then he stared at Molly. "Do you have any questions?"

"Do I get a sweet?"

"No. Sweets are bad for you," he intoned.

Molly looked up at her mum, her face quivering, and I saw Clair mouth the words 'ice cream' to her daughter.

Then the Doc looked at me. "Penhale you need to get after the fishermen! Leaving all this junk on the shore! Like planted landmines waiting to explode!"

I gulped. "I will, I will, Doc. Just fix up this citizen, and I'll get on it."

"Citizen?" Clair whispered to me.

"Uh, yes." I said to her. " _Standard_ procedure."

Clair grinned. "Oh, right."

Dr. Ellingham set to work, and inside of two minutes Molly her foot had been treated and bandaged.

Molly said, "That wasn't too bad."

I saw how the Doc's face had turned white while blood dribbled from the slice in Molly's foot, but he carried on and finished the job. "Brilliant, Doc," I told him.

He curled his lip, as he put away the instrument tray and the extracted fishhook. He binned his gloves and washed his hands thoroughly. "When has this child last had a tetanus inoculation?"

Clair told him, "I don't remember."

The Doc opened a cabinet and withdrew a small bottle and syringe. "I'll give her a booster just to make sure."

Molly's face ran tears. "I don't like shots."

Clair hugged her daughter. "Ice cream."

Doc held up the syringe. "This syringe contains a special drug which will prevent the disease caused by the tetanus bacterium. That bacteria is common in dirt and contaminated water, such as beach sand."

Molly sniffled but held completely still while the Doc poked her upper arm. Then he instructed her mother in wound care and to alert him if Molly's wound got sore or red. "Got that?" he asked.

Clair nodded. "You've been very helpful."

I picked Molly up in my arms. "Right as rain now, little one?"

"Yep." She hugged me tightly. "Officer Penhale? Can we ride to the ice cream store in your police car with the siren blaring? Like when you drove me and mum here?"

The Doc gave me a dirty look, as I told her, "Sure. Whatever you want."

"Thanks Joe," Clair told me. "And you too Dr. Ellingham."

The Doc answered, "Call the surgery night or day if her condition changes, such as headache, twitching, irritability, or fever. That could be signs of something more serious."

"Such as?" I asked.

"Tetanus, some call it lockjaw," he said.

"Well we don't want that," I answered.

On the way out I introduced Clair to Morwenna, who we'd breezed past on arrival.

"I hear you're interviewing at the school," Morwenna said to Clair.

Clair answered, "News travels fast."

"Small village," Morwenna chuckled.

As we were having ice creams, Clair told me she _would_ come to Al and Morwenna's wedding with me. All in all, a job well done.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29 - Arrival

Al took our bags from the car, while Jack stood there twisting his hands. "Nervous, dear?" I asked him.

"Oh, a bit," he said.

I touched his shoulder. "It'll be fine."

He took a deep breath and blew the air out slowly. "I hope… so."

Al turned around, carrying our luggage. "Problem?" he whispered.

"No," I answered, squaring my shoulders. "Come on, Jack." I took his arm and dragged him to the steps. I knocked on the door and waited for it to open.

The door flew open and Morwenna stood in the door, radiant and smiling. "Mum! Dad!" she yelled gleefully. She came out, and then threw her arms around us as I pulled her into my arms. Oh God, I could feel her little belly against mine, and suddenly my eyes were pricked by tears.

"Mum, Dad. Oh I am so glad that you came!" Morwenna exclaimed. "Aren't we Al?"

"Uh, yeah," he said with a grunt. "Can you take the reunion _inside_ while I shift the luggage? Breaking my bloody back here."

"Sorry!" she answered, pulled me and Jack inside and then opened the door wider to pass both Al and our bags.

Jack managed to snag one of the bags, for poor Al looked like an overloaded weightlifter with beads of perspiration trickling down his face. "Steady there," Jack told him.

"Thanks Jack," Al muttered. "Uhm…"

Jack smiled. "You _can_ call me Dad, you know."

"Right, Dad," Al told him.

I winked at our daughter, and she laughed, so then I laughed.

Jack and Al took the luggage away, leaving me and Morwenna by ourselves for a few precious moments.

"How are you Mum?" Her voice was a bit high and shaky, I could tell.

"Doing fine. Oh let me look at you!" I took her arms and looked her up and down. I could see she was preggers with her glossy hair, flushed cheeks, bigger bust, with just a hint of a belly pushing her blouse out at the waist. "And here we are," I said, "at last; at _long_ last. Too long, I think."

She ducked her head. "Right," she said then hugged herself. "And you and Dad are well?"

"We are, and I must say that your Doc Martin really is a miracle worker. Making that diagnosis the way he did."

She nodded. "He's good at what he does, is our Doc."

"I'm not sure that I adequately thanked him during our visit."

"He and Louisa, Mrs. Ellingham, will be at the wedding. In fact Louisa helped me with my wedding dress. You can speak to him then."

My heart sank a little, thinking of all the things - big and small - which I missed over the years. Buying a wedding dress without me was just one of a million things I'd not done with my daughter.

"Come upstairs and I'll show you my dress!" She turned towards the stair, but stopped staring at me. "Mum… I am so… so…" she took a shuddering breath, "so… happy - yeah, that's the right word. _Happy_ that you and Dad have come!" She stretched out her arms so I went into her embrace.

I started to sniffle, and then she did, and so by degrees we fell to crying as one.

When the men clattered down stairs she and I were still wrapped up in each other's arms.

"Mor'?" I heard Al ask. "Uhm, everything alright down here?"

Morwenna swiped at her dripping eyes. "All good."

"Just mum and daughter happy to see each other," I snuffled.

Jack glanced at Al and the boy caught his eye. They men gave each other a silent look.  
"Ahm, right," Jack said after a few seconds.

Morwenna perched a hand on hip. "So wot's that look supposed to mean? Hm?"

Jack shrugged and shook his head.

"And you Al?" she asked her betrothed.

He held up his hands in surrender. "I… donnoh."

Jack broke the moment the way he was good out. "Now I'm thinkin' that a good dinner is proper. On us. What's a good place to eat 'round the village nowadays?"

Morwenna bit her lip. "Maybe…"

AL snapped his fingers. "We could go to… maybe the… oh, what's the name?"

"Freddies," Morwenna blurted out.

"Bit flash, ain't it?" Al screwed up his nose.

"Why Al Large! Flash? I do recall you took me there on our first date, if it counted, but certainly the second time, if you actually count the first."

"What's this?" I asked.

Morwenna blushed. "Well you see I met a fellow named Colin there."

Al started to grin. "And what was the girl's name? Right." He snapped his fingers. _"Nefertari_ ; that's the one."

"Who's this?" Jack asked.

I saw the sly smile Al gave Morwenna and the cheeky way in which she answered him. "Oh _those_ two," she said.

"Well, however these people are, or were, I'm sure it will be fascinating to hear about them," I chuckled.

Three of us laughed, but poor Jack was left behind. "What, and who?" he stuttered.

I watched the way that Morwenna's eyes danced as she gazed at Al. Oh yes, she was in love with the boy, and I was glad that she was. For love was necessary to carry on, with a wedding and all.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30 – Family

I patted Al's knee under the table for he looked pained as Mum asked him about the pub. He cocked his head at me, so I gave a little smile. "Go on, Al." We were packed around our little kitchen table and oh how I wished granddad was sitting here with us.

"Uhm, right," he said, "So Ken decided he ought not run the pub, so I sorta stepped in to run it."

"And," I added, "It's been a smashing success!"

"Yeah," Al muttered, scratching his neck. "So far."

"And, my whiskey has been a good one as well," Bert added.

Mum forced a tight smile at Al's dad, for she didn't favor drink that much, and here was my fiancé running a pub, as well, and my father-in-law-to-be was talking about making whiskey. Oh god.

Luckily Dad stepped in. "Just how did you get into the whiskey business? Doesn't that take capital?"

Bert smiled. "You'd think I was tellin' a lie if I told you I distilled my first batch in the back of a caravan!"

"Do tell!" Dad responded.

"Oh yes, it was all bits and bobs then, wasn't it, boy?" Bert directed at Al. "Plenty of hoses and tubes, spigots every which way…"

Al cleared his throat. "But it's all proper done now. Licensed and everything."

Bert slapped the table. "Right you are, Al! Bloody _miracle_ … sorry… an actual miracle, you might say! The secret is… well, that's a secret. Ha, ha! Small batch distilling gives a _true_ craftsman the opportunity to create – new things."

Dad nodded and then took another forkful of chicken. It was good chicken, along with sprouts, taters, and a salad, and a sweet cake ready for afters it was a hearty meal. Mum and I had cooperated in the kitchen and I do think it was the _first_ time she and I cooked together. It was a funny feeling while we worked on the food; almost like we were first-met strangers, for in a way that _was_ true. Too many years apart to be totally comfortable with one another, but maybe there was hope for us down the road.

Mum said, "So a new industry in Port Wenn. My, my."

"Little acorns into mighty oaks, Mrs. Newcross," Bert replied.

"Oh please, call me Tara," she told him.

He nodded. "Right, Tara." Then he winked. "No need to be too formal, I suppose."

Dad laughed aloud. "That's right. We're to be a family now." As soon as he said it his face went white and his face froze.

Family. Oh yes, my a-bit-off-kilter family. But it is, as they say, what it is. Water under the bridge and the chicken has flown the coop. All true. Years and years they were gone but now here they were, but I reminded myself they had come to the village for good reasons.

Al took the bull by the horns. "How long are you staying? Going back to Kenya soon after the weddin'?"

Mum answered, "We don't actually know. That is we bought vouchers for the return so we may stay for a while."

"A while," Dad added. "If that's alright with you."

"Sure… okay, that's… good," I managed to say without a trace of emotion. Stay? They're staying?

Al picked up on my meaning, as he said, "I could put you up in one of the extra rooms over the pub."

"Yes, we'd not want to intrude on you newlyweds," Dad said, but he made a face when Mum poked him. "What?"

Al snorted.

I had to say "Dad! Al and me have been keeping house for a while. So we'll hardly feel like newly-weds."

Al took my hand. "Mor just… don't get upset."

Dad nodded and then said, "I mean that, uhm, when two people do get married, it is different for you and everybody else. It all changes and you need privacy. It's a new thing, for you. And I'm sorry if I've upset you." He looked around the table. "Don't mind me; just a silly old man."

"Oh now Jack, you're not old!" Mum told him.

"Then you'd better tell that to my knees for these hills are killing me. I'd forgotten how everything here seems to be uphill both ways."

Bert nodded sagely. "I think maybe a drop of the good stuff might help. Al?"

"Dad!" Al told him.

"It's alright, Al," I said. "Go on."

He got up, opened the cupboard by the window and took out a bottle of Bert's brew. "Everybody want some? Not you Morwenna."

"Of course, not," I laughed, as the baby squirmed.

Al poured four glasses, although Mum indicated just a little in her glass. Dad picked up his glass and inspected the amber fluid against the overhead light. "Looks good." He lowered his glass and held it out. "A toast?"

Everyone raised their whiskey as I held out my water glass.

"Here's to a fine couple and what I am sure will be a wonderful wedding!" Dad said.

We all clinked glasses and then drank.

Mum coughed a little and patted her chest, but Dad's eyes danced as he smacked his lips. "My that is… quite… something. Bert this is very good – very good."

Bert chuckled. "Thank you, Jack. I think it's coming along well."

Dad sipped again. "You know I imagine that there could be a market for this overseas. Original Cornish whiskey."

Bert's face lit up. "Really?"

Al groaned. "Oh no," he muttered.

Dad's head was bobbing. "I know some people – well a man – who might just be able to ship some of this to Kenya."

Al rolled his eyes while Bert's face got a look of wonder.

Mum started to shake her head. "Jack, now don't…"

"Don't what?"

"Just don't get Bert's hopes up is all."

Bert looked from me, to Al, and back to Dad. "Now who is this man you're speaking of? The one in Kenya?"

Al started to say something, but I tapped his arm and then he didn't say a word. Let Bert dream his dreams. After all, he was family.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31 - Four or five Weddings and a Funeral

Mrs. Tishell had finished dusting the organ, and I watched as she moved on to clean the pews. She was really putting her back into it, so I walked to her and offered her a cup of coffee, if only so she'd take a break.

"Oh, no, this is good for me," she said. "My goodness Curate Edwards," she held up the soiled cleaning rag, "just look at the dirt I'm getting off these seats!" She shook her head. "The church is going to wrack and ruin! Our custodian has been slacking off… once more!"

From our conversations I knew that she wasn't actually making a swipe at me. "It _is_ an old building," I answered. "And Mr. Wilson does the best he can. He _is_ a pensioner, and almost eighty."

Mrs. Tishell nodded. "Oh yes, he is. But Mr. Wilson is far more interested in bending an elbow and drinking a cuppa than pushing a broom. I used to tell the Vicar that we really needed a new building, or at least a very good cleanup. Why that altar cloth over there must be twenty years old, if it's a day!"

I nodded, which was something I did a lot of on Mrs. T's comments. She was right, more often than not, and she always would tell you her opinion – whether you wanted to hear it or otherwise. "Perhaps we can get a slightly newer one? I know that's the best we have, but perhaps… well, I can call my friend who has a church up in Padstow. Perhaps they can lend us a better one."

"Oh yes, that is a _good_ idea. We certainly need the church to be all tidy for Al and Morwenna's wedding, don't we?"

"Tell you what?"

"What?" she said suspiciously.

"I'll pop into my office and make that call, and _then_ I'll help you clean the pews."

"That would be… uhm, nice, I _suppose_."

Her tone stopped me. "Will you let me? Help you?" I asked.

Sally's blue eyes looked away for a moment. "Of course, Curate."

"Please? Call me Rosie? At least when I'm not serving officially."

She sniffed. "I'd prefer not to. _Curate Edwards_ suits me and your _office_." She sighed.

"Is something wrong?"

She shrugged, but then said, "Is the Vicar coming back?"

"Don't know. I _have_ asked."

Sally sighed. "The last wedding we had in here was Doctor Ellingham's – the last one the Vicar held I mean." She stood straighter for a moment. "Those two _finally_ got married," she sniffed.

"Do we count Joe and Janice's attempt?" I asked.

Sally shook her head sadly. "That was your first, am I right? And _no_. _Not_ a wedding, was it?"

My throat locked. "Arhm, not."

"And we do know when there _is_ an _actual_ one. Am I right? There is a start, a middle, and at last a finish to a ceremony like that. It starts with prelude music, the bride processes, the presentation of the bride, and then the preface. Then a hymn, readings from the Good Book or other seemly poems or writings, and then the Homily on marriage. Then the second hymn, the consent, signing the documents, and then prayers, followed by the next hymn, the blessing, and the recessional. Then the happy couple leave in a shower of rose petals or confetti."

She'd practically recited the Order of Weddings from the Book of Common Prayer. "Yes, it is a process, and a standard one."

Sally shook her head. "But Joe Penhale and Janice? Not even close."

"Perhaps they weren't ready."

She looked at me closely. "Who is ready? Were you?" Then she added, "Oh I _am_ sorry, you didn't _get_ married did you?"

"Ahem, no. Still single."

"Other side of the world. New Zealand was it?"

"Australia."

She nodded in her exaggerated way, head bobbing like a chicken. "You poor dear. Must have _been_ horrid!"

I took a deep breath. "Yes." I wasn't about to delve into my ex's missteps – such as playing the field down there before I arrived. Bugger. "It has been hard."

Sally touched my arm in sympathy. "Before I married Clive, I could have had my pick of the men. But I chose him."

"I'm sure you miss him."

He eyes dropped to the floor. "That was a very nice service – uhm, a very _nice_ message you gave at the funeral."

I'd hardly known the man but I had done my research, for in the village everyone knew all about everyone else. "I'm sorry I'd not known him better."

Sally swiped at her eye, and cleared her throat. "Dust."

"But he was a very pleasant man, and I'm sure he was a fine husband. He was clearly happy to be back with you."

Sally turned away and then sank to the pew she had been cleaning. "Well, he had retired and of course his wife was here."

The way she spoke in third person was strange. "He seemed a sweet person."

She rubbed her forehead. "I do miss him. That might seem strange for you to hear me say it, but I _do_. Clive could be happy in odd ways. He'd be absolutely over the moon about a dolphin he saw down in the harbor, seeing a rainbow, or when the flowers bloomed in the spring." She sniffed loudly.

I sat down in the pew in front of her, but turned to face her. "I am sorry he is gone."

Her lips twitched. "But he's not, I mean he's dead, I know. Shuffled off the mortal coil. But he's not gone. Oh no, Clive is…" she waved her hand. "Out there…"

"I understand."

"Do you? Do any of us? What does it all mean?"

I shrugged. "We believe that there is a reason. We must! To love one another…" I stopped when I she started to weep.

She shook her head. "I wasn't fair to Clive. Not the way I ought to have been."

"In what way?"

Her mouth opened, and then it closed. "I… oh, _maybe_ I wanted him to be… _different_?"

I smiled at her. "Not one of us is perfect."

She looked up and swept my hands into hers. "Oh, Curate Edwards, _Rosie_ , how do we _keep_ going?"

"One step at a time," I said. "Just keep breathing in and…"

"Out," she sighed. "I did love Clive," she whispered. "I did."

"I know." Just as I had loved. "This may sound trite but you _can_ forgive yourself for what you _did_ or _did not_ do."

"That can be very hard to do."

"I know," I told her.

We sat silently for a few more seconds, then she slowly let my hands go, and then she folded her hands in her lap. "Well, I'd better get back to work."

Sally now seemed diminished; not so prickly and high-and-mighty. I stood up. "As I said I'll make then phone call and then let's work together, shall we?"

"Yes, yes, let's," she said brightly. "And then perhaps we could have that coffee? Or perhaps tea?"

"Tea," I answered. "Tea."

"Right. Tea."


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32 – Transformation

"Next patient!" I heard Martin yell and sighed for he could be so… abrupt. I know that he didn't mean to be; well he did mean to be quick, just was not aware that it sounded _rude_. I was typing on my new laptop at the kitchen table, trying to make sense of my notes from the most recent lecture on adolescent development. It all seemed very jumbled, but perhaps it was the state of pre-teens and teens in any case, with all those hormones along with brain and body changes. Personally I hated being a teen, and not just because of puberty.

I heard Morwenna walk up to his consulting room and she glanced down the hallway to the kitchen. She gave me a bright smile, tinged with trepidation. Then she spoke "Doc? You got a break for a bit. Mr. Vingoe missed his bus, but he _did_ call to say so, so you can't be _too_ angry about that. I slotted him in at two-thirty because Mrs. Treligga cancelled – something about a sick cow. And," she turned to smile at me, "it's nearly lunchtime anyway. There's no one on the schedule until one thirty."

"Humph," Martin muttered.

"So," Morwenna started to fiddle with the pen in her hand, "I was thinkin' maybe we could start lunch now? I promised my mum we'd have lunch, and… well…"

I heard the sound of wheels as my husband pushed his chair away from his desk, and then his heavy shoes clumped towards Morwenna. I could just see the side of his face as he stopped in the doorway. "Fine," he said. "Go." He waved one of large hands at her in a shooing motion.

"Oh lovely," Morwenna told him. "Thanks. I'll be off then." She turned a bright smile to me. "Now you and Louisa can have a nice lunch. Bye then. Later." Quick as a flash she was out of the house.

Martin walked in washed his hands and dried them and then I felt him kiss the crown of my head.

"What's that for?" I asked. "Spontaneous signs of affection? Do tell."

"Uhm. Right. Lunch?"

I had a touchy tummy this morning. "Perhaps just some soup for me? Crackers as well."

"Not much of a lunch."

"Martin, please have whatever you want to eat. Don't let me stop you."

He opened the refrigerator, took out some things and set to work. "There is this chicken and noodle soup from yesterday."

My stomach did a flip and I had to press my lips hard together. "Yeah," I managed to say but the thought of floating chicken fat on the liquid, plus the smell - made me shudder. "Oh, maybe not. Not quite up to snuff today."

"You hardly touched your egg this morning." He turned to look hard at me. "What is going on?" He reached out to touch my forehead with the back of his hand, but I pushed it away.

"I am not feverish, Mar-tin. Just a little unsettled."

"Hm. Time of the month? You did eat the morning toast though."

"That must be it," I told him, but it didn't feel right. My symptoms were vaguely familiar and a little light began to glow in my memory. "Oh," I said softly.

"Oh, what?"

I saved the file I was working on, closed the laptop, and stood. "I'll just clear this." I moved my notes as well to the sofa, then went up to the loo, but first I inspected at the calendar hanging on our bedroom wall. I was flipping back through the past few months when I heard Martin's steps on the stair, so I dropped the pages, picked up a hairbrush and began to brush my hair.

Martin looked at me awkwardly when he came in. "Louisa? I should examine you, if you're not well."

I put down my brush and pushed past him into the loo. "You just want to play doctor, I'm thinking," I chuckled.

I closed the door on his staring face, as I heard him reply, "I _am_ a doctor."

"And a _very good_ one too!" I told him, but he didn't get the joke. He rarely did.

I used the toilet, flushed, and then stood at the sink to wash. My face stared back at me, showing some sort of reaction. Was it shock or relief? My lip jumped of its own accord between my teeth. "Or is this fear?" I whispered to myself. "Nah, it can't be. Can't be _that_ , can it?" I lifted up my blouse to touch my breasts under my bra. They were sore and swollen. "So, either I'm late… or… late for a _reason_?"

I washed up then went out and found him sitting on our bed, with an anxious look on his face. "Louisa?"

I took the calendar off the wall and sat down next to him. "Martin, I want to show you something…"

He nodded, so I flipped back through the calendar, showing him the little tick marks on the pages; the ones I make each four to four and a half weeks. I took a deep breath. "This is today…" I flipped back to the previous month. "See anything last month?" Then I flipped to the two months previous page. "Now look here." The little penned 'p' stood out bold on the fifth.

He blinked rapidly. "The last time, ahem, you had your period… was…"

" _Nine_ weeks ago, Martin. And I have not felt very _keen_ to eat breakfast the last few weeks. So, doctor husband of mine, and a very good one," I patted his leg, "what might that indicate?"

He looked away, then back at me. "It might indicate any number of things. You have been under stress taking your course, which can upset…"

I shook my head at him. "And we have been making love… rather…"

"Ahm, frequently," he coughed.

"And without protection."

"But there _could_ be an underlying health issue…"

He didn't get it, or didn't want to voice and opinion. "Horses _not_ zebras, Martin." I'd heard him say that often enough – meaning (to a doctor) if you hear hoof beats think of a more common, and not rare, cause.

I put my left arm around him, and scooted closer. I picked up his left hand and laid it on my breast. "Feel that?"

"Of course I do!" his arm flew out of my hand.

"So do I, and it's, uhm, they're _both_ sore. Nipples as well. Dear husband of mine – who _is_ a _very good_ doctor – can you puzzle out this case? A woman of child-bearing age is two months late in having her period, has some nausea in the morning and an aversion to food, and sore baps. Plus, has been making frequent love with her husband in an attempt to get pregnant? Now, what does that suggest to you?" I tried to smile. "Years of medical training may help you to make a diagnosis."

He turned his face to mine, as his eyes grew large. " _Louisa!_ You're _pregnant_!"

"Yes, yes, I am. I think – I think must be." I looked into his shocked face. "I suppose we should do a test."

He nodded, then slowly folded me into his arms and kissed me gently.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33 – Family

I pulled back a little, but kept my arms around my wife, but I saw a tiny tear course down her cheek. "Louisa, you're… crying."

"Yes," she answered, wiping her cheek on my shoulder. "Sorry."

I am mystified at times by human behavior, especially that of my wife. "I thought you _wanted_ to have another child."

She nodded. "I do," she sniffed, and then she kissed me full on the mouth.

I tasted lipstick, as well as her salty tears, and also could smell Kenzo Flower, a scent she wore sparingly. Her lips worked against mine, and her arms tightened, pulling us close together. After our kiss ended, I didn't push her away, but stroked her hair with one hand, while the other was firm round the small of her back.

"Nice," she mumbled into my lapel.

"Yes."

She sighed. "So, here we go."

"Ah, yes, the, _your_ pregnancy."

" _Ours_ , Martin. Yours and mine. I didn't get myself pregnant."

I recalled a certain encounter some weeks ago. "Perhaps…"

"Doubting me?"

"No."

"You know," she whispered into my ear, "thinking back, I think it must have been the night we went out to dinner."

We didn't eat out very often, so putting two and two together, and given the evidence of the calendar, I said to her, "The Rockport."

"You do remember."

"I… do. I had the sea bream. You had the lemon sole."

She drew her head back to look me in the eye. "Yes, I do think you are right."

And later… well, it must have been that night. James must have been asleep when we got home for Mel, the child minder, was reading a magazine as we entered the house.

"You're back," she grumbled. "At last. He went down about thirty minutes ago. I think he missed you, but after we read the dinosaur book again, he went straight down."

Louisa had smiled. "Thank you so much for minding him." She turned to me and gave me a look.

"Yes," I said, as I dug out my wallet to extract a few Pounds. When Louisa saw what I held in my hand, she sighed, took my wallet from me, pulled out a _twenty_ and a five, and gave that to the woman.

"Thank you so much, Mel," Louisa told her. "Last minute, after our minder bowed out."

Mel stuffed the money into her handbag, picked up her jacket, and turned to go. "With my fella out at his lodge meetin' this was better than staring at the four walls," she sniffed, but then she smiled. "Twenty-five works a treat. Thank you, Louisa, and you as well, Doc."

I cleared my throat.

Louisa followed her to the door. "Thank you again, Mel. This was lovely. G'nite!"

"Night then," the woman answered her as she left.

Louisa closed the door. "I'd no idea that Audrey Wilson would back out like that."

"Irresponsible teenager."

"Or you put her off," Louisa moaned.

There was some truth to that. "But we can't leave James Henry with just _anyone_ ," I protested.

"Audrey O'Toole is a very nice girl, and I've known her family for ages."

I couldn't tell my wife that I had good reason to doubt that girl, beacuse I could not share her medical history of borderline alcohol misuse. I went to the kitchen and inspected the room. Mel had cleaned up after she had fed James, but I took up a dishrag, soaped it well, and then wiped down the counter, table, and James' chair, just to be on the safe side.

The dog crawled out of its basket and stared up at me, tail wagging. I ignored it, but Louisa bent down to touch it. I groaned inside. A dog – in our house! But if it made my wife happy… then fine.

"So, Buddy, were you a good boy for Mel? Hm?" she asked the animal.

"It can't understand you, Louisa."

She shook her head. "Well he knows the difference between affection and dislike. And he likes you, Martin."

"Louisa, you are _merely_ assigning human feelings to an animal."

She stood up, then washed her hands at the sink. "We're animals as well, Martin."

"Yes, but of a higher order." Buddy stared up at me, mouth open, and eyes bright. "So, you think he is thinking?"

"He's thinking he'd be delighted if you gave him a pet on the head."

I shook my head. "No thank you." I made certain the doors were locked, then walked up to check on James. He was asleep on his belly, legs pulled into fetal position, while hugging a soft dino toy, and the top of his blanket. I touched the back of his neck, felling his warm skin, and shifting my hand to his back, felt slow gentle breaths; for he was deep in slumber.

"Is he okay?" Louisa whispered.

"He's fine," I told her. "Goodnight, James," I whispered to our son.

Louisa bent over the rail to kiss his head. "Night little man. Love you." She straightened up and took my arm. "And I love you too."

I looked at her loveliness in the dimness. "I know." Yes, it had been that night; must have been.

Louisa nestled into me, pulling me back to the here and now. "Where'd you go?"

"Just, thinking, er, about that place - The Rockport."

She smiled. "And after." She sighed contentedly. "And now, there will be another Ellingham."

In about seven months. "In time - if all goes well." I stopped that line of discussion for I saw her lip clench between her teeth. "You'll be _fine_ , _and_ the baby."

"Hope so." She put a hand on her belly. "Our baby."

I almost blurted out to her my opinion about elderly gravidas, but I stopped myself. I stopped stroking her hair to trace the line of her chin. "We haven't eaten, and you need…"

She kissed my fingers. "I need… _you_ , Martin." Her hand started to loosen my tie.

"Louisa, _what_ are you doing?"

She giggled. "Just go with the flow, husband." Then she started working on my shirt buttons.

"But…" I could imagine any number of reasons to make her stop, but no, for Louisa was my wife, and I did love her, and we'd started another child; growing this very minute inside her. "It seems the family will be growing," I managed to say but she had other ideas.

She started kissing my ear and then moved her lips to my neck. " _Our_ family, Martin… now let me…"

Yes, our family; the one which I cared so much about. I peeled her hands away, walked to the bedroom door and closed it firmly. The lock shot home with a snap. Louisa looked at me quizzically, so I cleared my throat. "Ahem. In case Morwenna returns… early?"

Louisa smiled, patted the mattress next to her, so I walked over to her. "Now…" I sat down. "You were saying?"

Her fingers went to my lips. "No talking,"

I could only nod as I followed my wife's lead.

 **Author's note:**

 **It seems that I started writing this story on Dec. 12, 2017.**


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34 – Late

I hurried fast as I could because, God forbid, I got back at my desk late. Mum and I had a nice lunch and chat and I didn't want to ruin my feel-good vibs by the Doc tearing a strip off me. I fairly ran up the hill, put my key into the lock, turned it, and pushed the door open. As I stepped inside it was dead quiet. The sound of something was missing; like people talking or moving around. Usually I can hear the Doc in the kitchen or in his consulting room, and Louisa typing on her laptop. "Hello? Doc?" I called out, as I stepped into reception. "Louisa?" I called out, aiming my voice up the stairs. "You two up there?"

Suddenly there were muffled voices overhead in qualities of both shock and alarm. I distinctly heard the Doc shout, "Oh God!" and then Louisa told him, "Mar-tin, not to panic! Just..."

Both were upstairs then and it seems that they weren't happy I was back from lunch. My watch showed it to be one twenty-six. Hm. Okay. I walked to my desk, sat drown primly, and reviewed the office schedule. Well, whatever was going on the Doc was not happy being caught at it. Louisa didn't sound exactly pleased either. Oh well. Not my fault.

Up above I could hear hurried footsteps, the slam of a door (bathroom?), and then the scrape of what sounded like dresser drawers opening and closing. A toilet flushed, what must have been their bedroom door creaked open, and then a very flustered Doc clattered downstairs.

His hair was a little askew, his tie was knotted crooked, and he wore a medium-blue shirt, instead of the light-colored one of this morning. "Morwenna," he said through clenched teeth. "You are back! Right…" he came to me and snapped his fingers. "Notes?" he said indignantly.

"And good afternoon to you as well." I pointed at my watch. "One-thirty just now but your _first_ afternoon patient isn't here yet. That will be Angela Davies. When she arrives, _if_ she arrives, I will remove her notes from the file and give them to you." I smiled up at him. "You wouldn't want me to waste effort would you?" The last was to needle him for he'd been on my case about not being efficient.

He ducked his head. "Yes. Good… I'll just be… ahem…" He turned towards the consulting room.

Louisa's feet suddenly shot into view on the upper landing, then they slowed, and she slowly and calmly came down the steps. She was running her fingers through her long hair to get out a tangle, just as she came off the bottom step faced me. "Hello," she said innocently but she was blushing, and breathing slightly fast.

"Hi," I answered her. She had been wearing lipstick when I left for lunch and now she didn't, plus she pointedly was trying _not_ to look at the Doc, while he was just as assuredly trying not to look at _her_. I might have been rubbish working at the bakery or chemist but I can add two and two and come up with the right answer. Those two… they'd been… oh my! The _Doc_ snogging with _Louisa_ in the middle of the day? I tried to hide my smile. No, it was more! The two of them _had_ been shagging!

" _What_?" Louisa aimed my way, when she saw me expression change.

I stiffened, trying to keep a straight face. "Oh, nothing." Yes, had to be. Well, well, they are human after all, especially Martin. Afternoon delight? My goodness! Will wonders never cease?

Louisa slowly blew air from her nose. "Fine."

The Doc tried to hide in plain sight, as if his six foot-three inch tall frame could ever hide. He started, and then checked his watch, just as the front door creaked open. He glared at Angela Davies as she peeped in. "You are late!" he yelled at the poor girl.

"Sorry Doc," the girl shrugged, "Only a couple minutes!" She was all of seventeen and had been seeing the Doc for acne treatment. A generally pretty girl, but her poor face was spotty.

I heard him mutter, "Teenagers," under his breath. "Fine. Go through." He waved toward his open consulting room door, and then he turned to me with a glare. "What are _you_ gawping at? Notes!" His fingers snapped. "Quickly now."

"Hold your horses," I admonished him.

A scared Angela skittered past the Doc, as I got her notes out, and handed them to him while he scowled. So I stared right back at him until he went in to examine Angela.

Louisa stood very still, until he'd left the room. "Morwenna? Got a minute?"

I looked around the empty waiting room. "Think so."

Louisa tossed her head. "Kitchen then."

I followed her there, but she stopped and faced away from me, chewing on a fingernail. "Louisa? Something wrong?"

She hugged herself, then turned with her eyes wincing. "Morwenna… I want to share… something. Some news."

"News? About what? The wedding?"

Louisa wrapped her arms around herself. "No, not that." She pursed her lips. "It's only, well, now this is an absolute secret, just between us. Right?"

"Sure."

She took a deep breath. "Martin… says… we will confirm; with a test. Tomorrow morning. Better, more accurate, in the morning, he says."

"Yeah?" Louisa had not looked her best lately; thinner around her face and neck. Didn't seem fair that she could lose weight while I was gaining, week after week. "Are you sick?"

She smiled and shook her head side to side. "Not exactly."

"You have been looking a little peaked. _Why_ are you telling _me_ this thing? Whatever it is; you haven't said."

"Oh," she sighed, "You and I have grown closer these last few weeks, haven't we?"

I nodded. "We have. Like sisters, kinda." All the great things she's done for our wedding; the dress, the arrangements. "Better than sisters, seems to me, if I had one, which I don't." And neither did she.

Louisa grinned. "It's just that, you know, my job, and being married to Martin, I can't share much and sometimes I just need someone to listen to me, is all. And unlike last time, I can't keep it a secret. Have to tell _somebody_."

I put my arms around her. "Of course. Well don't you _worry_ Louisa, you can say _anything_ you like, just get things off your chest, and I won't tell a soul!" Her nervous look didn't _exactly_ fit with my impression that they had been in _bed_ together over lunch. "Not a peep outta me. Torture wouldn't get it out of me! Dunking, the rack, all that - zip lip from me. So go ahead. What's going on?"

She took a slow breath, then said quietly, "Good to hear. Now it's just that I'm late, and as I said, we do need to take a test…"

"Late?" Late? As in… oh _late_!

"We're pretty sure I'm _pregnant_ ," Louisa whispered in my ear. "About nine weeks."

In spite of my assurances of silence I shouted for joy.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35 – Daddies

After Mor' told me the news, I sat down on our sofa, open-mouthed with surprise. "Louisa's… gonna have a baby as well?"

"Seems so," Morwenna answered.

"So, I guess the Doc... uhm…" My hands waved in the air on their own.

"Louisa too!" she chortled. "Sorry. Didn't mean to laugh at them. I mean, these things happen. Look at us."

I nodded. "Right."

"But there were tryin' she told me."

"Even more surprisin' that the Doc would agree to tat. He's not exactly keen on children, is he?"

Morwenna sat on the arm of the sofa to lean against me. "But you've seen how the Doc cares for James Henry. So, attentive."

I shook my head. "Mostly to keep him healthy, I imagine. The Doc won't ever be a dad like mine, will he?" I had to laugh. "Not like Bert. Not ever."

Morwenna bent over to kiss my cheek. "I suppose every father has to find their way. Seems to me that James is doing right well, and the Doc certainly isn't as stuffy as he used to be. After all, if he was?"

I nodded. "You said it! No woman would let him get inside ten feet of her, that is, unless it was in his surgery." I sighed. "I just hope I'm up to the job."

Morwenna took my hand and held it against her belly. "Al Large you've done fine so far."

"Makin' a baby can't be quite like raisin' a baby, can it?"

She rubbed the back of my hand. "The makin' part is the fun bit. But oh, Al, come on."

I sighed. "Just thinkin' about crying babies at one in the a.m. will not be fun."

She nodded in agreement. "Or the pushin' 'em through my pelvis either."

I winced. "But there's drugs right? To help the mother, uhm, you."

"There is that." She stood up. "Dinner?"

"Uh, yeah. I thought we could just go to the chippy. What about your parents?"

"Busy, mum told me."

"Ah."

She shrugged. "Doesn't sound very healthy."

"The Doc's been rubbin' off on you."

She held up thumb and finger about an eighth of an inch apart. "Teeny bit." She slapped my shoulder. "Al, _not_ the chippy. The Anchor."

"The Anchor?" I'd feel funny eating in a pub that I didn't manage.

"Sure. The next few nights will be packed with our wedding stuff. So, come on. Take me out."

"I suppose that would work." I'd have to get Pauly to fill in behind the bar. "Sure."

"I'll use the loo and then we'll go."

While she was getting ready, I reached Pauly Chambers and asked him to hold the fort at the pub. He was reluctant, until I offered him extra money.

Soon enough we'd made our way out of the house and down the hill, when the Doc's car stopped as we crossed in front of it. I could see the James, and Louisa were with the Doc.

Louisa waved to us and rolled down the window. "We're are you two bound?"

"Dinner," Morwenna told her. "The Anchor."

Louisa faced Martin and said something to him. His expression turned to a frown (but didn't he usually look grumpy?). She shook her head at him, and then said, "Come with us? We're going to the new place. Up at the top of the road."

That was an expensive place and I mentally felt the thinness of my billfold. "Bit pricy, ain't it?"

But my lame protest did not deter Louisa one bit. "Our treat! Oh, _do_ join us. You can ride in the back with James."

I heard the car doors unlock, so I suppose we were committed. At least my wallet would get relief, but us having dinner with the Ellinghams? I whispered to Morwenna, "Oh, this will be fun."

"Shush," she responded to me. "Right!" she answered Louisa. "Come on Al. Don't be a spoilsport!"

Nervously, I got into the Doc's car behind the man himself. "Doc," I mumbled.

"Al," Martin answered.

Louisa smiled back at us. "Now, isn't this nice?"

Suddenly, I was more nervous than any moment of my life.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36 – Dinner Party

Joe Penhale was true to his word for he was right on the dot, time wise. He was all smiles as he ushered Molly and me into his police vehicle. "Is this alright?" I asked. "In a Police vehicle?"

"Off duty," he said, "but I am sorta always on duty – the Law never sleeps!" He glanced into the back area. "You buckled up back there?"

Molly answered brightly. "Oh yes. Mum never lets me go anywhere in an auto unless I have my seat harness on."

"Good girl," Joe said approvingly. He turned to look at me. "And I didn't say what a lovely… uhm… dress you are wearing."

"Thank you." I'd dithered too long over what to wear. Joe had said the place was nice, so I rejected trousers, finally settling on a dark blue print dress, with a belt, and a cream cardi hung over my shoulders. I looked him up and down. "Your police uniform is grand."

He blinked. "Dress uniform," he said, and then he shrugged. "I don't have a suit."

"Oh, well maybe you should have one? For when you really are off duty?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure. That would be… I mean I don't have much occasion to go to di… dinner… that much… but…" he said haltingly.

"I could help you look for one. I hear Truro has some good menswear shops."

Joe smiled at me. "That would be… uhm…"

"Nice?" I finished for him.

He blinked rapidly. "Yes, nice. Good. Right."

I tapped my watch. "You said we had a reservation?"

"Yes, we do." He put his hands on the controls and started the vehicle.

"Mum? Can we hurry? I'm awful thirsty," Molly piped up from the back.

With a grin Joe flipped a switch and the siren started blaring and the blue lights flashing. "I don't usually run the lights…" he laughed as the engine roared as we drove out of the village.

"How far?" I asked.

"About ten minutes, unless there's sheep on the road."

Yes, the sheep; _traffic_ , the locals called them. It was a small village and I'd even met the shepherd at the Co-op. The man had apologized for our lambie introduction to Portwenn. So the villagers tended to be friendly, all of them curious about the new Head at the school. No doubt comparing me to the old one, Louisa Ellingham. Those were very large shoes to fill, but so far I've done my best, and I think I was adequate, if not sterling. Sometimes one of the teachers would slip, and mutter, "When Mrs. Ellingham ran the school, she'd…" – that sort of thing.

As we drove away from the village, Joe was telling tales about various adventures he's had as a policeman. After the third whopper, I laid my hand on his arm, and he quit talking. "Joe, you don't have to… uhm, give me a big buildup."

His face fell. "But, I was only… getting acquainted."

"Yes, and that's fine, but I don't need to hear your entire cop career in the next few minutes, do I?"

His eyes were wide. "Okay."

"Just… enjoy the moment. That good?"

He nodded. "Right."

I patted his arm. "Good. You don't have to try so hard."

I saw him turn and look at me open-mouthed.

"I mean it, Joe."

"Yes, uhm, _right_ … I'll try not to be so…"

"Nervous?"

He blew out a shaky breath and turn to face forward. "Yes."

Soon enough buildings emerged on the moor, one of the many nearby villages, and the largest place had a sign. _Ships Watch,_ read the brightly lit sign over the main door of a half-timbered two-story building. "Look's lovely," I told Joe when he helped me climb out of the Bedford.

"Steady there," Joe cautioned me. "Don't want anyone to say that Joe Penhale took Clair and Molly Davey to dinner and let Clair fall flat on her face!" he guffawed.

Molly had already jumped out of the back, and I noticed she was walking stiffly. I bent down to look at her face, which looked flushed. "Everything alright, sweetheart?"

She shrugged. "I guess. My leg might be a little _sore_ though."

"Sore? In what way?"

"Just… oh, I dunnoh. Right one. Ankle really; and my foot."

That was the foot she'd hurt; down at the Platt. With the skirt she was wearing, as well as tights it'd be hard to get a look in public. "Show me." I reached out to touch her leg, but she twitched away.

She protested, "M – O – M! Gawd. Not _here_!"

"We'd better go in," Joe prompted us. "Don't wanna be late, do we?"

I glanced up at him, then stood up. "Come on Molly." She took my hand as Joe took my elbow, guiding us to the doorway.

The restaurant was nice inside. High ceilings, modern furnishings, a brilliantly polished blonde floor reflected pastel blue walls, in the glow of modern overhead fixtures. There were maybe two dozen tables for four, each nicely decorated with white table cloths, and dark blue china. There weren't many people here, yet, other than two older couples in the back, plus a group of five; and the five I knew – Dr. and Mrs. Ellingham, and their son, seated with Morwenna Newcross, and Al Large.

"Doc! Louiser! Morwenner! Al! HELLO!" Joe shouted. "And James Henry as well!"

I felt my face burn with a full blush when they all turned to stare at us.

 **Author's Note: Thanks to a sharp-eyed reader the restaraunt is now named 'Ships Watch.' Oops. I'd better reread previous chapters more closely!**


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37 – At Table

When Joe and that woman and her daughter walked in, I felt my heart sink. Unconsciously, Louisa called out, "Joe and Mrs. Davey, would you like to join us?"

I turned towards Louisa in silent protest, so she whispered to me, "It's fine, Martin." Inevitably I ended up being moved to the head of the table, with James Henry in his chair seated on my left with Louisa on his other side. Morwenna stayed in her original place on my right, but another table was moved to join ours. So now Al sat next to Morwenna, with Penhale next to him. Mrs. Davey, was seated across from Penhale, with her daughter sandwiched between her and Louisa.

The waiter bustled about setting the added place settings, then reviewed the menu once more for the newcomers.

I gave my wife a sidelong glance, and in reply she reached over and touched my arm. She had come to understand my lack of social ease so her steady, and encouraging, presence was just as good as any number of sessions with a therapist.

So, I studied the menu intently while the other adults nattered on about this and that. The waiter returned after a time and took our orders. I asked for a small salad, raspberry vinaigrette on the side, the main course a grilled snapper, with wild rice, and sprouts.

The waiter cleared her throat. "We have a lovely special dessert, sir. A flan with fresh berries. Takes time to bake, so ordering now…"

I closed the menu with a snap. "No." The fruit did not sound bad, but no need to add useless fats and sugars.

Louisa perked up. "Could I please have the roast chicken? Beans and mash?"

The waiter nodded her blonde head. "And for the little 'un?"

"He can eat off my plate," Louisa replied. "He's quite young."

James was playing with his toy dinosaurs, making pretend animal noises, while trying to feed a cracker to the larger toy. He stared up gap-toothed to the waiter. "Mulk… peas?" he asked her.

"Oh, of course, sweetheart," the woman told him. "I'll bring a small plate for him, shall I?"

"Thank you," Louisa told her, and then the waiter went down the row. She settled herself while the others ordered. "This is nice," she whispered to me.

I inspected the well-ordered room. "Looks clean." I hoped the kitchen was just as spic-and-span.

"This was a terrible pub – an old knock 'em down and beat 'em up sort of place 'til last year," Penhale exclaimed. "Then the owner sold up, and new people took over."

"Yeah, yeah. They had workmen here for ages, turning it into this," Al added as he looked around. "Nice. A bit better than the chippy."

"Now, Al, I been working on my best man speech…" Joe said to him.

Al waved his hand at him to stop. "Just… keep it short. No jokes."

Joe's mouth hung open. "But I found some real _corkers_. There's this one that starts: _Loyal, caring, sincere, honest, and a great man. But enough about me! And the bride? Why she's so well known that every man calls her by her first name!"_

Morwenna hissed a dismayed "No."

Al shook his head. "NO."

I tuned their inane discussion out of my aural focus and examined more fully Joe's companions. Mrs. Davey was well togged out, and her eyes were bright with delight, watching Al and Joe go back and forth. Does she realize what a fool that Penhale could be? The daughter… Maisey? Milly? No. Molly. Yes; fishhook in the right foot, just behind the ball of the foot. The follow-up exam showed excellent healing, yet… the child was holding a paperbound book in her hand, listlessly flipping the pages.

She took a drink of water, grimaced at the taste, and then returned it to the table.

"Problem?" Louisa asked me.

"No."

My wife told me softly, "Don't stare, Martin."

"Yes-zs." But with furtive glances I saw that the girl seemed less present, as time went on, even as the food arrived.

"Tuck in, Molly," her mother said.

"Not hungry," the child moaned.

"Too many crisps before dinner?"

"I didn't _eat_ any crisps," the girl protested. "I wanna go _home_." She rubbed her forehead and that's when I saw a glisten of perspiration at her hairline.

That didn't make sense. It was cool in the room, being a typical under-heated Cornish establishment, for buildings were old, insulation was nonexistent, heating plants generally were ancient, and fuel was dear. I felt, if anything, just right. Why was the girl perspiring? I recalled her injury and follow-up, and they seemed unremarkable. Yet… there was something…

"Mrs. Davey how are you finding our little school?" Louisa asked.

"Oh, lovely. Quite enjoying walking from home to there in less than five minutes."

"Where are you lodging?" Morwenna asked.

"Top of the hill," Mrs. Davey said. " _Net Menders_? Know it?"

Al spoke up. "That's the duplex owned by the Shepherds, right?"

"Yes. Lovely views," was her answer.

Meanwhile I felt drawn to once more pay attention to the child, who now had set the book aside, and sat slumped in her seat.

Louisa asked her, "Molly? Something wrong? You're not eating?"

The girl poked at the fish fingers on the plate in front of her and shrugged.

"What's your book? Louisa asked.

The child brightened "The Wind in the Willows; I love to read."

"Reading is good," Louisa encouraged her. "I read all the time when I was a girl. It's what helped make me a teacher. Have you made friends with other children in your level?"

"Uhm, yeah," the child hesitated. "A couple, I guess."

"Who are they?"

"Uhm… Maggie Richards… Jane Powers."

"Yes," Louisa nodded, "I know them. Good kids."

"And I will say, Mrs. Ellingham, that the staff and parents have been so very welcoming," Mrs. Davey added. "Nice people."

"Right," Joe said sarcastically. "But you'll find it hard to measure up to Louisa, I mean Miss Glasson, I mean Mrs. Ellingham." Her turned contritely to my wife. 'It's true,' he mouthed silently.

"They are," Mrs. Davey answered him. "Nice, and… every teacher and teaching staff has their own… oh, personality."

Louisa blushed. "I hope that they don't keep comparing you to me, that would be… unfair."

"Little butt," the Davey woman replied, "That's expected."

I had eaten a few bites of my meal (and it was good, not over cooked – nothing worse than dry fish), and everyone was eating, but for Molly, who sat lethargically with a vacant expression.

I put down my fork, and rose to my feet.

"Martin?" Louisa asked.

I ignored her, as I moved to look straight at Molly between Al and Joe's ears.

"Doc?" grunted Al.

"Shush." The girl's vacant look bored right through me. I snapped my fingers and she didn't respond. I went around the table, pulled the girl's chair away from table, and shifted it so I could look straight at her face.

Yelps of protest came at me from the adults, as I moved furniture, but I placed the back of my hand on Molly's forehead. Damn! She was burning up! "How long has she been like this?"

Mrs. Davey expressed ignorance.

"Humph. Molly? This is Dr. Ellingham. How do you feel?"

The girl gulped. "Kinda… sick," she mumbled, then she fell forward against me and vomited down my shirt. I suppressed my gag reflex as the vomitus ran down my front as the stench of sick filled the area. Next, she sagged into my arms a dead weight, while cries of alarm arose at table. "Louisa! Get my bag!" I ordered.

She responded immediately for I heard her clip-clop shoes on the flooring come and go.

The child's mother squatted down next to me, holding a tissue, which I used to swab the girl's mouth and nose. "She's breathing, and has a raging fever," I said. The girl was not quite fully-passed out. "Hm. Febrile…" Then I felt her body stiffen, pushing away from me, as her limbs became nearly rigid, accompanied by slight jerks. "Yep – seizure."

Morwenna was right behind me. "Ambulance?"

"Not yet."

"Move!" I elbowed the mother aside, took the little body in my arms and laid her on the floor, on her left side, with her knees bent up to her chest, and that's when I felt the doughy texture of her right calf and thigh; and both like fire to the touch.

"Bag," Louisa told me as she set it down.

"Right." I pulled out the thermometer and used it. "Nearly 40*." I tucked a chair cushion under her head, both to pad it and make her airway straight. Her body jerked for a few seconds more and then stopped. "Good, good. She's stopped seizing."

To give the mother credit she hadn't gone weepy, or screechy, like some. She stoically watched my exam. I pulled down the girl's tights, and I heard everyone gasp when the child's bright red leg was exposed. The entire back of the calf was bright red, swollen and hot to the touch, the skin near to bursting, extending past the knee to her right up into her groin. I could see scratch marks where the girl had been pawing at it. Must have hurt like hell.

With a finger I pushed on the swollen calf muscle, held the pressure a few seconds, and then released compression. There was a visible and persistent dent which only slowly disappeared. "Cellulitis - but it's from staph, _must be_." I peeled the tights down to her ankle and saw her her ankle was just as red, but not as swollen.

"This from that little fishhook?" Mrs. Davey grunted.

"I believe this is a _staphylococcus aureus_ infection, but we'll have to do a blood culture. Is she allergic to any drugs?"

"No…"

"Has she had a cough?"

"Maybe."

I put stethoscope to her chest and heard crackles. "Slight pneumonia, perhaps. Needs an X-ray to confirm. But laying on the floor would compress normal lung function."

I got out a swab, syringe, and vial of penicillin to start her off. Might need vancomycin if it's MRSA. A swab and a jab into her right buttock got her started on a course of antibiotics. The child started a little when the needle went in and I saw her open her eyes when I pulled her tights back up.

"Mummy?" she asked.

I leaned down so I could look at her face. "Maisey… _Molly_ , this is Dr. Ellingham. That fishhook you got in your foot last week? I'm afraid it has made you very sick. You fainted, and your leg is now very red and sore." The smell of her sick breath and what was on me almost made me spew.

"Oh, yes," she answered.

"I want you to go to hospital, for some tests and some medicine to get you better."

She blinked slowly. "Okay."

I held up my finger. "Can you follow my finger?"

She nodded and followed my instructions as I checked her neural activity.

"Eyes are tracking." I took her pulse which was rapid but not too much. I looked at the mother. "Hospital. I'd like to send her by ambulance but I will give her something for fever and nausea."

"Doc? I got my Police vehicle – right outside!" Joe piped up.

I sneered but I knew he'd get her there, and quickly. "Do you feel safe having PC Penhale drive you and your child to Truro Hospital?"

"Of course."

I sighed. "Right. Let's get her a bit more stable. I will call Hospital and tell them what I know. I will also check with the staff there later tonight. Call me when they get her checked in? I'll want a full septic work up, perhaps even a spinal tap, and chest X-rays, followed by intra-venous antibiotics but I think we caught this in time."

Mrs. Davey knelt on the floor taking all this in. "She's really sick then."

A high fever, vomiting, fainting, a febrile seizure, possible pneumonia, and a hugely infected leg? "Yes. Very." There was more I could add, but I didn't, as I found Louisa's eyes giving me silent approval for being taciturn for once.

 **Author's note:**

 *** 40C = 104F**


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38 – Care

After Joe and Clair left to take Molly to hospital, the Doc excused himself, went outside to put his medical bag away, and then walked back in to the restaurant carrying a small hold all. I watched as he walked straight to the loo. "And I figured dinner was ruined – what with Molly getting sick on him."

Louisa was helping James Henry, cutting up chicken so he could chew it easily. "These sorts of things happen, so I suggested to Martin that he carry a change of clothes in his car. Hence the bag he brought in."

Al grunted. "Good idea. It never ceases to amaze me how the Doc can…" he waved his free hand, "you know. Just _launch_ himself into the medical fray like that!"

Louisa put butter on a piece of roll and gave it to James who stuffed it into his mouth. "He's like that, Al. Always…" she paused, "springing into action."

I piped up with, "Gee, Al, sorta like when Caroline go shocked on the beach and you had to get the AED."

Al nodded. "But, Louisa, the Doc - always?"

"Well, when it's warranted, like the thing with the girl. Martin saw that she was quite sick; rapidly assessed the situation."

I muttered to Al, "A little slow on the uptick with _some_ things, I _imagine_."

Louisa must have heard me, for she stared at me and said pointblank, "But it's the outcome that's important."

Soon the Doc returned to table, wearing a light-blue shirt with a dark blue tie, the white shirt and red having gotten ruined. He sat down, adjusted his plate, took a large drink of water, and without a word returned to eating his meal.

"Shame that's gone cold," the waiter was suddenly standing at his elbow after cleaning up the sick on the floor. "Anything I can do, and what just did happen?"

The Doc grunted. "That young girl is my patient, and she is ill. Her mother and the man took her to hospital."

The young woman brightened. "I did see your bag – so you _are_ a doctor."

"GP," Martin said, with irritation. "Now if you don't mind?" He went right back to eating.

"Desserts and coffees are on the house," she told him brightly as she walked away.

"Humph," Martin said.

"Humph?" Louisa asked him.

The Doc shrugged.

Louisa gave me the _look_ (the one that I think means _this is Martin being Mar-tin_ ). She touched his left hand then went back to her meal.

Al sighed. "Right."

I tried to start a conversation about the weather, if only to fill the dead air, but to no avail. So we just sat there and ate.

Finally Martin broke the awkward silence. "Why in God's name didn't that woman take _better_ care of her child? Hm? Didn't she notice the girl's leg was swollen? Or that she was unsteady? Bacteria run rampart just like that." He snapped his fingers.

"It's _that_ serious?" Al asked.

The Doc glared at him. "Yes. Unchecked staph infections lead to an amazing number of injuries and death. When I was a young surgery registrar we had a patient who had suffered a slight injury while cycling, then totally ignored the wound. Only when he could not move his leg at all did he even consider coming to hospital."

"What happened to him, Martin?" Louisa asked.

Martin said flatly. "We saved his life but he lost a good chunk of a major thigh muscle plus a testicle."

Al winced. "Owww."

In two bites the Doc finished his fish and rice then put his fork on the plate. "Yes, Al. _Ow_."

Louisa grimaced. "So pay _attention_ to cuts and scrapes."

Martin nodded. "But back to parenting…" he turned to look at me and Al, "Your child will get injured, and sick; it _will_ happen. Just have a care – pay attention – don't let…"

"We get it Doc. Things fester, so don't wait too long," I answered him.

Doc blew air from his nose slowly. "Right." He turned his head to inspect James who was smashing veg on his tray. So he calmly took a paper tissue and began to wipe up the mess. Just like the Doc, always cleaning up other people's messes.

A lot had been said and unsaid right there. I'd heard a few things, rumors really, about the Doc's upbringing. Louisa always called them _cold_ , and with his dad was dead now, and his mum off who knew where, there weren't any grandparents about for little James Henry. And Louisa, her dad in the clink, and mum off in Spain. But James had Ruth Ellingham for a great-aunt, and of course Bert always said James Henry was like a grandson, being he'd helped to raise Louisa.

I felt Al's hand in my lap so I took it and held it firmly. His fingers stroked the back of my hand as I gave him a little grin, and he smiled back at me. Care – it _was_ about caring, wasn't it? The baby kicked down there and oh dear we had to start at least thinking about names. But as for the caring bit, I turned to glance at the Doc, as Louisa gave her man a sweet half-smile. His mum and dad were rubbish, I knew; they must have treated him terribly. Was that why he blew up at people who made a mess of things with their kids? Was he trying, in his rubbish way, to stop happening to _them_ what had happened to _him_? In those few seconds I think I actually understood our Doc, Martin Ellingham. Poor man.

Al nodded to the Doc. "Don't you worry, Doc. We will, uhm, take care of our baby."

"See that you _do_ ," the Doc replied.

"Now, who wants a dessert course?" Louisa asked in a delighted way.

The Doc groaned as only he could.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39 - Rehearsal

"And… Al, I want you to stand right here," I took the groom by the arm and nudged him a couple of inches to his left. "Morwenna, you are… perfect, just as you are." The girl was beaming, glowing really, and her mum and dad were smiling as well. "Mum and Dad, we'll do it just as you did. Mum will come down the aisle with your hubby and take her seat. Dad, you'll walk your daughter down the aisle then hand her off to the groom."

Mr. Newcross nodded his head like a trick horse. "Yes… I'll do my best, Curate Edwards." Despite his words, he swiped at his cheek where a tear was trickling down.

"Oh, Dad, now don't you start," Morwenna told him, and then she started to leak tears.

I handed her and her father a tissue. "Right, and tissues will be at hand in the pews but an extra one in a pocket or folded into your hand may not be a bad idea, either."

Louisa Ellingham stood to the bride's left, holding a stand-in bouquet made of package bows. I faced her. "And Mrs. Ellingham that's good just as you are."

She smiled. "Good." The doctor's wife had clearly been a steady support to Morwenna and I could see this wedding and the prep had moved them into real friendship. Well, I sighed inside, we all need friends. Mrs. Tishell was sitting at the organ and was giving me a brilliant smile. I was a stranger and you cared for me… Mrs. Tishell and I had come to a certain standing between us; and understanding that we each were broken vessels. She was quirky, to be fair, but so was I. Perhaps friendship was the glue which might mend our cracks.

On Al's side Joe Penhale bodily stood at attention, but the way his eyes were twitching he must be having a hard time. I went to him and whispered, "PC Penhale, will you be alright?"

"Oh, yeah," he sighed. "Doing my duty. But I can't help but think that… that was me… I mean I was the groom… but…"

I touched his shoulder. "You'll do fine."

I saw him swallow hard, but he nodded. "Duty. Told Al I'd be his Best Man and here I am."

"Good then."

I moved back to the center of the room and surveyed the scene. Bert Large was in the second pew on the left, smiling. "And Mr. Large, the elder?"

"Great Miss Edwards, just great!"

A few tentative notes came from the organ, as Mrs. T limbered up. "And the organ is working."

"Oh yes!" Mrs. Tishell exclaimed. "Just blowing the dust outta the pipes."

I addressed the assembly. "Now I want you all here by one forty-five PM. The service starts at three sharp, and I expect some people may come as early as two fifteen, so when you get here, Al, you and Joe will be sequestered in my office. Can't have the groom seeing the bride! Ha, ha. Morwenna, you will be in the choir room, until the time is right."

Al and Morwenna gave each other a look.

"Problem?" I asked.

Al scratched his neck in that nervous way of his. "Just… hard to think that…"

"You got here?"

"Exactly," Morwenna answered.

"No worries. Now Mrs. Tishell will play the intro music. Mrs. Newcross your husband will escort you up the aisle and seat you. Mr. Large, Bert, you will then come up and take your seat. Al and Joe? When you hear the end of the second intro piece, you will come from my office and walk slowly to just where you are standing. You'll turn towards the back. Mrs. Ellingham? You will come up the aisle, and take your spot." I looked over at Mrs. T who started to play the _Wedding March_ , but stopped after a few bars. "That's the signal for the bride to slowly walk up the aisle, escorted by her dad. Got that?"

I looked at Mr. Newcross. "You will bring Morwenna to her spot, kiss her if you wish, and then give her right hand to Al. Al, you will take her hand, and then you and Joe will turn to the front. Mrs. Ellingham Morwenna will hand you her flower bouquet. Right. Sorry for the stage management people, but we don't want any slip ups; no one wandering off."

Joe looked at me and mouthed the words, ' _don't worry_.' If only I thought, considering what might happen.

All the same I told them all. "Don't panic. Now," I lifted the Book and opened it. "I will start the service, just follow along. When I get to the message bit…" Ah, yes the Message - the part the ministers sweated the most over. I had been laboring over this one, but with Al and Morwenna it should be fairly easy. Together the two of them were just so… so right with each other.

That of course made me reflect on my failure to get to the altar with Gerald. Oh I was ready and willing, but looking back there was a dark current of worry that ran underneath our relationship. But in the end, it was not to be. Fortunately, I had work when I came back to England; work which kept me busy, at least physically. And then when I moved down here to Cornwall, well that certainly kept me occupied, at least during the day; but the nights were both tedious and lonely. But no, Gerald and I were not well suited, not really when it mattered.

Stopping my reverie, I ran over the rest of the service with the people. At the end, I asked, "Questions?" and there were none. I clapped my hands. "This is going to be a _lovely_ wedding - I know it."

Al put his arms around Morwenna so she hugged him back. I saw her baby bump outlined as he did so. That little girl or boy would be born into a great family, I was sure of it. Their marriage was not just because they were going to have a baby, but because they loved one another and more than that they were well suited. Sometimes things work out _so_ well.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40 – Nearly Midnight

"Mor', luv," I said to her, but she kept clinging to me. "Sweetheart… it's nearly midnight." I tried to pry her hands away but it was no use.

She drew away a little. "Just a minute more, Al Large." Then she burrowed her face deeper into the hollow of my neck, as she tightened her grip.

Dad cleared his throat behind me. I turned my head to glance at him and he was pointing to his wrist watch, so I reached up and took her arms from around my neck. "Morwenna, please."

She peered at me with a rueful grin. "This must be the first time _you_ pushed _me_ away."

"Tradition, my lovers," Dad chuckled at us. "Bad luck for the bride to see the groom and vice versa on the wedding day. Now… three minutes."

"Come on now girl, you'll have the rest of your lives together, so you must come inside now," her mum hissed from the open door.

Her dad suddenly appeared behind Tara. "Morwenna, please…"

Mor' kissed me deeply, then as our lips parted, she whispered, "I love you, Al Large."

Now I was the one who wanted to keep ahold of her. "And I love you."

Her eyes shone brilliantly in the light of the house lamp. "Tomorrow then…"

"Uh, yeah, tomorrow," I managed to mutter as her mum and dad drew Morwenna into the house and then they closed the door in my face.

I sighed.

"That's that, then," Dad said to my back. "You okay, boy?"

I wiped my face as I turned to face Dad. "Yeah."

Dad was smiling but his eyes looked wet. "My little boy, my Al… well, shift it then. Off to the pub with the two of us."

Saturday – tomorrow – I'd be getting married to the woman I loved.

Dad put his arm around my shoulders. "It's gonna be a lovely day, son, tomorrow."

Men don't cry, right? But of course, we do. So, the Large boys, father and son, slowly walked sniffling down the street to the pub and our solitary beds.

000

"That was quite the scene at the restaurant," I murmured.

In our bed next to me, Martin sighed heavily. "Yes."

I reached over to pat my husband's shoulder. "Another job well done."

Once more he sighed at me.

"Mar-tin, now don't be annoyed."

"That woman…"

"Clair Davey," I told him. He was so terrible with names.

"Is she fit to run your school, given that she missed so many _obvious_ signs of her daughter's illness."

I rolled to my left side to see him better. "It's not my school, and she will do just fine. And you did say that Molly will recover."

Martin turned his head to stare at me. "Ought to."

"What's that look supposed to mean?"

He blinked. "Nothing."

"Nothing? Out with it." I didn't want to go to sleep on a sore note.

Martin rolled his body so we were face to face. "Louisa, that's what I can never… understand… about you."

"Oh? And just what's that supposed to mean?"

He took a deep breath. "Good; you always see the _good_ in people… and I…" he shrugged.

"Don't see it," I answered for him.

He wrinkled his nose. "Right." He stared at me for a few seconds but then he said, "Those two youngsters, do they know _what_ they are doing?"

"They're hardly babies, Martin."

He slid an arm under me and then laid the other across my hip. "But still..."

I touched his hair then put my hand on the back of his neck. "Thank you."

"For?"

I scooted closer to push myself against him – full body contact – and I felt the immediate reaction; like lightning his us both. "All this, and James, and the new baby." And even Buddy, I thought.

He turned away to switch off his reading lamp so our bedroom was plunged into dimness, only lit by the nightlight in the hall outside. "Nearly midnight," he said with a yawn, but now his left hand began to stroke my lower back with a slow even motion.

"Al and Morwenna's wedding day is tomorrow," I murmured to him. "How time flies…" The baby fluttered and I almost giggled as I felt those motions. Too early to tell it was knee, foot, or head I was feeling down there.

I saw Martin's eyes shine in the dimness. "Time… yes, a lot of time has gone. Ahm, I love you Louisa," he whispered and then he began kissing me, starting with my ear, then my neck, and then my cheek, and finally landing on my lips, which were very ready to kiss him back.

000

'Love shook my heart, like the wind on the mountain, troubling the oak trees.' - Sappho


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41 – A Wedding

"Al, just stay calm," I was saying, but Al bristled back at me.

"I am calm!"

"No, you're not," I told him. "And it's still my job to get you up that aisle!"

He turned to face me. "Joe, I am walking up the bloody, aisle… sorry, sorry… I AM gettin' married – _today_ ," he hissed softly. "And the only thing that's makin' me nervous is YOU acting like a fool."

A fool? Was I? "Sorry Al, only… only… well, things can happen at weddings." And didn't I know it.

Al raised an eyebrow at me. "Right." He pushed me into a chair in the Curate's office. "Sit; right there, and don't you move."

I raised my hands in surrender. "Sure, right, fine."

He went to a mirror on the wall and examined his tie. I thought it went well with his new blue suit.

"Lookin' pretty sharp, there," I told him.

He nodded. "This suit cost a packet, but…" he shrugged. "I want to look my best."

"I'm sure Morwenna will be lookin' brilliant. You see the dress?"

"Just a photo. She wouldn't put it on for me. Bad luck or sumpthin'."

"Women can…uhm…"

Al stared at me in the mirror grumpily. "Don't you say it."

"Be… particular, is all. They have their ways."

Al sighed, and then laughed. "And God luv 'em for it."

I got up and clapped him on the back. "You know, Al, I think you two will be just fine."

He smiled. "Yeah. I think so too." He held out his hands and they were trembling slightly. "Guess I am a bit nervous."

I shrugged. "Happens."

"How is Molly?"

"Still in hospital, but on the mend. Clair, that is her mum, said she ought to stay with her. Miss the weddin'."

"Too bad," Al said.

"Yeah, too bad. Still best that mum keeps daughter under her care."

000

I had dusted off the keys and played a few runs just to limber up my fingers. The Curate walked over. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Tishell."

"And a good day to _you_ _as well_ , Curate! The church is looking lovely. The flowers are just so, oh… perfect."

"Yes, yes, the Women's Auxiliary has done a fine job."

I inspected Rosie Edwards, who was dressed in her finest robe. "You'll do just fine."

She bit her lip, but then smiled. "I hope so."

"Like falling off a log, I am sure."

"This is my first actual wedding. As we discussed, the other one doesn't count."

"No," I agreed. "But _this_ one will go _famously!_ Do not be anxious about anything."

She smiled. "Just so. Philippians 4:6."

"Oh, you _do_ know your Bible," I teased and gave her a wink.

Rosie chuckled. "I'll just… check on things."

I watched as she went to her office and peeped in at the men, and then she went down the side aisle towards the choir room. I sighed contentedly. I'd got a glimpse as Morwenna came in and she looked brilliant. Her dress was just perfect, and she wore it with a great sense of solemnity, as was befitting your marriage. I flashed back to my own. Oh, dear, now I was running a tear.

 _Don't ruin your makeup_ , _Sal_ , I heard Clive say in my head.

"Yes, Clive, I won't," I said aloud, hoping no one heard me, but the sanctuary was still empty. No guests yet, but no, I'm wrong. Bert just came in escorting Ruth Ellingham, and there she has James Henry with her! Oh, what a dear poppet he is!

000

"How do I look?" Morwenna said.

"You look sweet and beautiful," I told her.

She peered at herself in a wall mirror. "And I don't look…" she poked at her waistline.

"No, no, you're fine." Not quite showing in the dress, for the higher waistline tended to hide things, but she was getting busty.

The girl shook her head. "Well at least I'm gettin' married before the baby's born!" she laughed.

Automatically I felt my face my go slack and my heart lurched a little.

Morwenna's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes went wide. "Oh God. I am sorry, Louisa! Did I just blurt that out?"

One of the top three embarrassments of my life was having a baby out of marriage. I shook it off. "No problem. Past."

"But you and Martin are married _now_."

I felt my left-hand fingers clench around my wedding ring, but I reached out to Morwenna to adjust her veil. "You are so beautiful."

Morwenna started to cry. "Am I?"

I handed her a tissue. "Yes, you are."

The door opened just then and her mum walked in. "Oh here you are!" Tara said. "My little girl. Hello, Mrs. Ellingham." She peered at Morwenna. "Oh don't you cry. Happy tears, those must be."

Morwenna dabbed at her eyes carefully. "Yes… yes… oh mum."

Tara carefully put her arms around her daughter. "Oh Morwenna just look at you, all grown up."

Morwenna sighed. "I am glad that you and Dad came."

"Well how could we miss our little girl's wedding day?" Tara answered as she let her daughter go.

I thought about my parents. Dad was incarcerated and Mum was back in Spain doing whatever she was doing when I married Martin. I'd always been close to my Dad, but Mum and I were not. "I love your dress, Mrs. Newcross," I said to Tara. She wore a pale blue dress which suited the mother of the bride.

She answered me, "I found this online in a shop up in Exeter. Luckily it fit when it came by Post." She looked me over. "I can't thank you enough for what you've done for my daughter."

I ducked my head. "She's more than just Martin's receptionist."

"Did I tell you that Louisa got me the job?" Morwenna piped up. "And she's become a good friend to me." She touched my hand. "And me to her, I'm thinkin'."

"Thanks right," I said. "Ah, I hear the prelude music starting."

000

"Ruth, the church is fillin' up," Bert said to me. "A good turn out so far."

I craned my neck around. "So it is." I turned to James Henry who was sitting next to me. "Now James, as I said to you earlier, we must be good and stay quiet here in church."

The child was cuddling a toy dinosaur and a soft blanket, while sucking on a dummy. I knew that Martin hated dummies, but the way that James had been acting lately with obvious mouth pain of teething there was nothing to do, but to 'go with the flow.' James looked up at me, his eyes, dancing, then he pulled out a soft book from who knows where and began to flip through the pages. He pointed to the pages as he did.

"Yes, James, that is one dinosaur," I whispered when he turned the page, "Two dinosaurs."

"You ever want to get married Ruth, I mean I know you didn't do the deed, right?" Bert interrupted.

"Yes I was never married," I said.

"But did you? Want to get married, that is?"

I sighed. "Once or twice."

He nodded. "I knowed my Mary since we was kids. Schoolmates as well. So I asked her straight off when I turned 18. She laughed."

"Laughed?"

"Nervous - like, you know. But then she said yes. She was only seventeen. He dad wasn't so keen on me, but I was already in the trade – workin' for my dad – plumbing. Steady work. But after a time he come around."

"How old were you when Al was born?"

"Oh, let me see, almost thirty." He sighed and then whispered. "We… well, you might say we had problems."

"Yes, infertility is an issue with many couples."

His mouth fell open, then he closed it. "Well…"

"It's none of my business, Bert, and it _was_ very long ago."

He nodded. "Good enough then."

I'd heard a rumor or two that Bert and 'his Mary' had relationship problems back then, and then she died soon after Al was born. "I imagine that your wife was a rather nice person."

Bert smiled. "Oh Lord love her she was; just like an angel, and pretty too. Al takes a lot after her." He chuckled. "You can't say that he takes after me," he finished and poked his ample girth, "as you can see."

"She'd be very proud of what you have done – raising such a fine young man."

He dug out a kerchief and wiped his eyes. "Now Ruth I promised myself I would _not_ shed a tear today, and now you've made me do it!"

Tears of happiness and sorrow; funny that, all at once. Yes I had wanted to marry, but the pain it would have caused my friend's family would have been more than I wished to visit on anyone. "Come now Bert, buck up. Curate Edwards has just gone to the front of the church, so I believe the show is about to start."

Bert put his kerchief away, composed himself, and then touched his tie. "How do I look?"

"Very nice, Mr. Large."

"And you as well, Dr. Ellingham."

000

"Oh, come on! No, no, NO! Move it!" I shouted as the sheep meandered back and forth in front of my car. "Blasted farm animals," I added. There must have been forty of the beasts filling the lane from side to side. I laid on the hooter to no effect, for they just ambled slowly along _en masse_.

I blew the horn several more times until I heard a shout.

"Stop! Stop that _bloody_ noise!" a man's voice came from over a hedge. A raffish person carrying a crook pushed through the shrubbery, followed by a dog of some sort. "That's better," he added when I quit leaning on the horn button. "I'll shift these soon enough, mate!"

The shepherd began to whistle and call, while the dog hustled to and fro, harrying the sheep to make them go faster. The man pushed through the mob and then ran ahead, reaching a gate built into the hedge. I watched as he lazily swung it open, and then directed the animals through it.

All I could do was sit in the car, stare at my watch, and fume with irritation. Finally the smelly animals were back in the field, the gate was closed, and the man gave me a cheery wave. "Sorry about that!" he exclaimed.

Stifling a curse, I mashed on the accelerator for I was running late, and Louisa, and for that matter, Morwenna and Al, would never forgive me if I missed the wedding. But the real problem was getting called out to a remote farm where the farmer had managed to fall off a wagon and break his arm. "Stupid fool," I muttered. The dash clock marked the top of the hour just as I reached the church. That farmer could just as easily figured himself out his arm was broken and gotten himself to hospital! No need to call me MILES out of the way to diagnose him with one look, then strap him up in a sling. "Idiot!" I yelled as I beat on the steering wheel in anger.

Finally, I parked at the church and vaulted out of the car. I gave my shoes a cursory wipe on the turf (stupid farmer with a vile and dirty farmyard!), and then trotted to the church door. Organ music was blaring forth and I got a rear view of Morwenna as she went up the aisle with her father.

Everyone was standing so I had little time. "Just in time," I muttered, as I quickly walked up the side aisle and slid into the pew next to James Henry.

I was just in time to witness Morwenna's father hand his daughter off to Al, and then Louisa took a bouquet from the bride. Louisa turned her head and saw me, and I saw a look of happiness replace the one of anxiety which had been there.

"Yes, I am here," I muttered to myself. " _Told_ you I wouldn't be late."

My aunt leaned over and whispered. "Here at last, I see."

000

Oh, and here comes Martin! Thank God. I took a deep breath and tried to put a real smile on my face as I held Morwenna's flowers. The baby rolled over, or something, so I just had to turn my head and catch Martin's eye. He looked back at me quizzically, but the smile I had on my face was genuine. Oh Martin, I love you so, twenty kinds of crap and all.

I then gave all my attention to the wedding service, which was just about to get to the good part.

000

Morwenna's hand felt cool and dry in my fingers, but mine was damp with perspiration. I'd dried them best I could on my trousers, while Joe and I watched Louisa and Morwenna come up the aisle, but it kept oozing out like a river. Nervous, Joe kept asking. Oh, Hell yes. The Curate gave us a smile and maybe that steadied me a little.

I threw my shoulders back, glanced at Morwenna and she looked a bit stiff. I rubbed her fingers and she responded with a quick squeeze. Steady on Mor' we're in this together and you are my sweetheart, now and always.

000

I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, but my heart was banging away like a drum. Al held my hand sweetly. My word his hand was wet. Poor man, nervous as Hell. But I am as well. Me? Getting married? The baby thumped, but I knew that I was marrying Al not because I was _pregnant_ ; but because we _loved_ one another. I gave Al a little grin, then turned my head to face the Curate. You and me Al Large – now and _forever_. Let's do this!

000

From my seat at the organ I could see everything. Best seat in the house; of God, of course. Curate Edwards looked rather happy, but also relaxed as she faced the congregation. She'd had a rough patch, but don't we all, from time to time? I caught a glimpse of Dr. Ellingham as he lifted up his son and held him closely. He took the little tyke's hand and made him wave to his mummy.

How many times had Clive tried to talk me into motherhood? Hm? A hundred? A thousand? I sighed. Him working on the rigs in the North Sea was a very good excuse, for I couldn't see myself raising a child all by myself while my husband was away. At least that's what I told myself. But I knew the real reason; two actually. There was Clive… the way he was… and the way I hadn't loved him the way I ought to have done. The other was I think I was afraid of all the complications of being pregnant – nausea, swelling, huge weight gain, blood clots… I stopped there. The past was the past; no going back. What's done is done.

I lifted my head to see Dr. Ruth Ellingham giving me an inquiring look. I gave her a smile, for her sake, if not mine.

000

Al seemed rather controlled now, but maybe he had always been; it was me being all weird? Same church, same people mostly, but one in particular was missing. Ah well, let it go Joe, I thought. Maybe… I heard a footfall back in the church so of course I had to look. Clair Davey was just creeping inside and seeing her gave my spirits a lift.

I suppose she felt Molly was well enough to leave her for a little while. When Clair saw me looking her direction, she gave me a happy little wave.

Thank God! A break in the gloom. There was at least one person who I made happy!

I stood taller, and turned to face the Curate. Now to get Al and Morwenna married! Must remember to save a piece of wedding cake for Molly as well!

000

I watched as my daughter – no, our little girl – stood next to her fella, arrayed in white, a vision of loveliness. Jack squeezed my hand and I returned it. We'd wasted too much time doing 'good works', helping those in need far away, when right here – back home – our own family was hurting; missing us. How could we have been so blind? I'd said as much to Jack last night and he agreed with me. Surely there are plenty of other needs to be filled in our own Cornwall?

Changes to be made, Tara, and with a little one on the way, wasn't it only fit that child get to know their grandparents?

I saw Jack weeping, so I gave him a tissue. Why is it the men who always cry at weddings and births?

000

As James squirmed in my arms, I felt myself thinking about life – new life – babies, children, all that. My and Louisa's love for one another gave us this little man I was holding, and soon enough another child of ours will be here. Love – what is it? Biological? Hormonal? The wash of tides and instinct? Or is it something from a higher plane?

I peered around the church. I wasn't so keen on religion, yet there must be something that made people build these buildings, and pass down stories of the long ago – parables, legends, and mutated histories of people and places. Well, I thought, so be it; but I'd never really grasp it.

I found myself looking not at the wedding couple, but at the tall brunette standing to Morwenna's left, who despite all the grief and confusion, and dare I say outright meanness, I'd sent her way, had never given up on me. I'd recently accused her of seeing the good in people. Well, somehow she must have seen the good in one grumpy and repressed village doctor, and thank you God for it.

I love you Louisa, and all the ways in which you have made me a better person, so I gave James a quick kiss on the head.

000

I surveyed the congregation and the church was filled. Well here we all are. Family and friends, villagers, and newcomers. Just as it should be. ' _When three of you are gathered in my name_ …' Just as it should be at a wedding; the creation of a new thing, forged of the will of both man and God.

A new thing – yes, a _new_ thing – even for me. I'd washed up on this shore like a piece of flotsam, cast upon the rocks of Portwenn with all my sorrow and anger. But I had made connections. I glanced at Sally Tishell. Yes, I would admit, even friends.

Now, Rosie, let's really get this wedding started!

I squared my shoulders and began to speak in loud and clear tones. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony…"

 **\- THE END -**


End file.
